


it comes and goes

by hujwernoo



Series: Comes And Goes (In Waves) [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bonus Scenes, Drabbles, Enjoy!, Gen, Whatever you want to call them, they're mostly me rambling about random things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 28,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hujwernoo/pseuds/hujwernoo
Summary: Drabbles set in my Ghost!Klaus series - some character studies, headcanons, and missing scenes.





	1. Index

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that with how many drabbles I'm stuffing in here, I should really organize them all into a sensibly-timelined index. You're welcome.

**Drabbles:**

Those Pesky Nannies (chapter 3)  
pre-series

A Very Serious Training Exercise (chapter 5)  
between 'this is for the ones who stand' & 'come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all'

The Twink Shall Inherit The Earth (chapter 26)  
between 'this is for the ones who stand' & 'come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all'

When it Rains... (chapter 16)  
between 'this is for the ones who stand' & 'come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all'

Confessions Of A Ghostly Medium (chapter 6)  
up to the end of ch 7 of 'for the ones who need a hand'

Office Politics (chapter 7)  
between ch 11 &12 of 'for the ones who need a hand'

The Left Hand Doesn't Know... (chapter 8)  
between ch 14 & 15 of 'for the ones who need a hand'

Sand, Sun & Fun (chapter 21)  
between ch 14 & 15 of 'for the ones who need a hand'

Five Graves And Number Five (chapter 10)  
up to the end of 'for the ones who need a hand'

Tomb Breakers (chapter 20)  
between 'for the ones who need a hand' & 'for the ones who think they can'

Moving In, Moving On (chapter 12)  
between 'for the ones who need a hand' & 'for the ones who think they can'

Here Comes Santa Klaus (chapter 33)  
between 'for the ones who need a hand' & 'for the ones who think they can'

Fear Thy Neighbor (chapter 14)  
halfway through ch 5 of 'for the ones who think they can'

Rolling With The Punches (chapter 17)  
between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'

(Royal) Blood On Your Hands (chapter 19)  
between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'

Five-Fingered Miscount (chapter 30)  
up to the end of ch 13 of 'for the ones who think they can'

A Fever You Can't Cling Out (chapter 39)  
between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'

A Grizzly Murder (chapter 29)  
between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'

The Legend of Lacquer (chapter 27)  
up to the end of ch 16 of 'for the ones who think they can'

Many Happy Returns (chapter 22)  
halfway through ch 1 of 'for the ones who try again'

Ghosts of Brothers Past (chapter 31)  
between ch 14 & 15 of 'for the ones who try again'

Knots and Nos (chapter 34)  
during ch 15 of 'for the ones who try again'

Handle With Care (chapter 32)  
during ch 23 of 'for the ones who try again'

the god in the garden (chapter 35)  
up to the end of ch 39 of 'for the ones who try again'

**Omakes:**

Picture Yourself, When You're Growing Old (chapter 23)  
up to the end of 'for the ones who need a hand'


	2. Character Study: Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried writing the next part of the series and ended up with a drabble about Klaus that I just didn't want to throw away. Curse me for being so rambly! But I hope you'll like this anyways.

Klaus is no stranger to dying.

It’s a familiar sensation by now. Ben hates how many times he’s OD’d, refuses to speak with him for days afterwards, sometimes even pulls out the overworn argument about going clean. Klaus….doesn’t really _listen,_ per se, but he always tries to be careful after he overdoses, for a while. It’s as close to an appeasement as he can make, and Ben has learned to make his peace with that.

Feeling his heart stop is….not what he would have expected, had he been asked before his first overdose. There is adrenaline, and that’s an entirely natural drug that Klaus is addicted to like any other, but….

Ben, whenever he’s feeling unusually forthcoming, has described dying as the worst experience he’s ever had. All the other ghosts are less coherent about it, but they seem to pretty much agree with him.

But here’s a secret, something he’s never even told Ben:

Klaus is pretty sure he doesn’t die properly.

Sure, there’s pain from his various injuries that fades out, and getting brought back is a _rush_ like none other, but the first time he overdosed and woke up to the disapproving scowl of dear old Dad, he didn’t understand when he was told he’d died.

It wasn’t disbelief. That would be normal, Klaus is pretty sure, to believe that you didn’t die, to reject the possibility because it’s too traumatizing. No, that wasn’t it. Klaus didn’t understand because he knew he wasn’t dead.

“I didn’t _die,_ ” he said to Dad, and if he was thinking more clearly he wouldn’t have said anything.

“You did,” Dad snapped. “Your heart stopped for one minute and forty-three seconds, Number Four. I will not tolerate your _habits_ any longer. I am placing you under….”

Klaus remembers that Dad went on and on about how drugs were wrecking him, wrecking his body, bound to kill him some day, yadda yadda yadda. Thankfully, Klaus was too confused to protest further, so Dad never learned that it wasn’t that Klaus thought he didn’t die, but rather that he _knew_ he didn’t die.

It’s not something Klaus can explain, even today. Not if you gave him fluency in all the languages on Earth. He knows it’s something to do with his powers, something important and enormous and incredible, something powerful beyond anything else he can do, maybe beyond anything his siblings can do, something Dad would _love_ to study -

And that, of course, is why he wants nothing to do with it.

So he doesn’t let on that there might be anything unusual about his ability to die, relative to other people’s. He doesn’t ever try to experiment, or figure it out, or even think about it, most of the time. It’s a part of him that he hates just as much as the ghosts, because he knows that it’s only blind luck that Dad isn’t poking and prodding and (torturing) experimenting to find out all the aspects of what he can do with it.

Sometimes he thinks Dad might suspect. Those are the times Klaus hides more drugs in his room, stuffs them into every nook and cranny he can find, takes pills in plain sight and steals Dad’s alcohol and doesn’t bother hiding his trail when he sneaks out at night, and then Dad looks at him with that frustrated disappointment and he knows he’s safe.

Klaus is no stranger to dying. After all, it’s the only thing he’s not afraid of.


	3. Those Pesky Nannies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super confused how all those dead nannies didn't impact the kid who can see the dead. Then it sort of branched out from there.
> 
> This is set pre-series, naturally.

“Sir?”

Four knows that he shouldn’t bother Dad. Dad is Very Important and does a lot of Important things, which means he doesn’t have time for Four or his siblings. That’s why they have nannies and Pogo, to take care of them so Dad can do whatever he does up in his office that they are Not Allowed into.

But this, Four thinks, might also be Important.

Dad peers down at him. “Number Four,” he says. “I dismissed you. Go with your siblings.”

“Where’s Number Seven?” Four asks, because Dad looking down at him is scary but Four sees a lot of scary things. Nobody believes him, but he does.

“Number Seven is ill, I’ve told you this,” Dad says. He looks annoyed, now. He starts to move away.

Four grabs onto his pants, which is something he knows he should _never_ do but this is _Important._

“Number Four!” Dad says, and now he sounds _angry_ and even if Four sees a lot of scary things that doesn’t mean he’s not _scared_ of them. Four shakes.

Dad leans down and pulls Four’s hand off his pants. He holds Four’s hand by the wrist and glares. “Number Four, this is not acceptable behavior.”

“Nanny Marie wants to know where Number Seven is,” Four blurts out. “She’s really mad.”

And Dad - stops.

He looks almost confused, except Dad knows everything and can’t get confused. He frowns at Four and says, “Nanny Marie is not here any longer.”

Four almost huffs, because Dad is saying he doesn’t believe him _again._ “Yes she is,” says Four. He points to the corner where Nanny Marie is standing. “She’s right there. Her neck looks funny,” he adds, because Four has never seen anyone’s neck bent like that, especially not all the time. Maybe that’s why she keeps screaming.

Dad stares.

**********

Dad _believes_ him!

It’s a really great feeling, even better than when he told that man to stop screaming and he _did,_ because Dad says that Four has _powers_ and that’s amazing.

Dad says that all the people nobody else can see are ghosts, and that means they’re dead. Four doesn’t really know what ‘dead’ is, but it sounds Important and he doesn’t want to look stupid so he just nods.

Four and Dad are in the Infirmary. Four doesn’t feel sick, and he wonders why they’re there. Then that reminds him about Nanny Marie and Number Seven. He asks about it.

“Is she still here?” Dad asks.

Four looks at Nanny Marie and nods. She snarls at him and her head flops around. _“Seven,”_ she hisses.

“She still wants to know about Seven,” Four says.

Dad sighs. “That,” he says, “is unfortunate. She hasn’t said anything else?”

“No,” Four kicks his legs.

“Well,” Dad turns around. “Since this is rather inconvenient, Number Four, I’m going to give you something for your powers. It’s only temporary, until this little incident passes on. Swallow this,” and he gives Four a cup of water and two little pills.

Four does, and drinks all of the water, because the new Nanny, Grace, says that he needs to stay hy-dray-ted. Then they sit for several minutes as Nanny Marie screams and hisses at him.

Then he gasps. And he feels kind of floaty, like in the bath. It’s nice, really nice, but this is the Most Important Thing Ever, and it’s because -

“Has something happened?” Dad asks.

“Gone,” Four whispers, because he’s scared she’ll come back if he says it too loudly.

“Excellent,” Dad turns back to the cabinet. “We’ll check again in three days, and if she’s left by then we will start training your powers. I expect -”

But Four isn’t listening. Instead he’s looking around the room, no ghosts anywhere in sight, the only sound the hum of machines and Dad’s voice.

“All gone,” Four says, and doesn’t even try to stop the smile that spreads over his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also posted this as a separate story, so that way I can get twice the number of views *pats self on back*.
> 
> Seriously, though, Reggie's default response to his kids doing things he doesn't like seems to be brainwashing and/or drugging them. WTF is wrong with that guy.


	4. Headcanon: Apocalypse How

Okay, so just to formalize things, here is my headcanon about the apocalypse:

In the first timeline, Vanya didn’t actually blow up the moon. It’s very dramatic, but that would leave….a lot of evidence. Evidence Five would find. I mean, even if he never saw the sky again (and it looked fairly clear in the flashback where the Handler showed up), he’d still be able to jump around and find the impact craters.

So in this series, at least, Vanya instead released a sort of shockwave that killed everything with a brain. People, animals, fish, birds, you name it. Pretty much the only things that survived were insects and microscopic lifeforms.

I like to think this has some rooting in canon: not all the bodies of the Academy showed visible injuries, Five doesn’t mention hunting animals for his food sources, and he’s seen shortly after his arrival reading a paperback of Vanya’s book. Paperbacks survive the apocalypse, and not a single human being? Suspicious.

Vanya’s area of physical devastation extends over most of North America. If she can blow up the moon, she can totally shake apart a continent. And I definitely believe Five was crazy enough to stay in his home city for forty years even after he probably stripped it of all its supplies, but the entire continent being just as bad is less sad than there being perfectly non-leveled cities standing around a few days away he could move to.


	5. A Very Serious Training Exercise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of fluff for y'all, as an apology for what I'm doing in the main story.
> 
> This is set between 'this is for the ones who stand' and 'come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all'.

“Five, Five!”

Five looks up from the disassembled engine. The pieces are spread out in front of him, a water-stained manual sitting at his side. He’s not as confident as he’d like that he’s making progress in finding out why it hasn’t been working for the past week, but it’s the best car they could find, and he’s loathe to give it up.

Except Klaus is bouncing over with a brilliant glint in his eye, and Five resigns himself to having to delay putting the engine back together. Klaus rarely lets him do anything productive when he’s acting like this. Five should really work harder to curb that.

Instead he stretches, and says, “Yes?”

“You won’t _believe_ what I just did,” Klaus crows. “Go on, guess.”

“....I don’t know, Klaus.” Five _could_ try guessing, but honestly Klaus is about as predictable as a windstorm. He’d probably never even get close.

Klaus huffs. “Fine, be that way.” He tosses his head. “ _For your information,_ I have devised an intensive training program so that we can expand the limits of both of our powers. But I suppose if you don’t _want_ to….”

“You _what._ ” Five says, too flabbergasted to even make it a question.

“Hey, I see that surprise there!” Klaus points at him. “I _resent_ that, my dear brother! I can be perfectly serious, and I made up this training exercise to prove it!”

“You -” Five is finding it hard to compose words at the moment. “You - _really?_ ”

“Yes!” Klaus throws up his hands. “Why is that so hard to understand! I’m _wounded,_ Five, I really am -”

“Okay, okay,” Five interrupts, because knowing Klaus he’ll act like this all day if Five lets him. “That’s - good thinking, Klaus, we _should_ be training our powers more. What’s the exercise?”

So Klaus launches into explaining. Five and Klaus will engage in one-on-one competition, but the goal of the exercise is to evade rather than subdue. Five’s teleportation is fair game, but Klaus will be required to stay corporeal at certain times to give a fair chance. They’ll switch off on pursuing each other, so that way they can both train -

“Klaus,” Five says.

“Hm?” Klaus cuts off his explanation and blinks at Five.

“You’re describing tag.”

Klaus is silent for just a moment too long. “No I’m not.”

 _“Klaus,”_ Five says.

“It’s not tag!” Klaus defends, waving his hands wildly. “It’s a _serious training exercise_ to help us, uh, actualize our potential and shit! Really!”

“You want us to play a children’s game,” Five says, annoyed now. He turns back to the engine. “Klaus, I’m trying to _work_ here, go do something useful -”

“One game,” Klaus interrupts, grabbing his arm. “Just one, and after that you can veto it forever and I won’t bring it up again, but just try it. One game.”

Five scowls at him, but he knows his brother well enough that trying to ignore him on this topic will just spur him on. Maybe Klaus really will drop it if he plays a game.

He glances at the engine, and up at the sky with a sigh. Well, at least it doesn’t look like rain. Might as well get this over with now.

“Fine,” Five says. “ _One_ game.”

Klaus lights up like he’s bursting into flame. “ _Yes!_ Okay, so first of all, when I’m It, I have to be visible anytime I’m within twenty feet of you….”

Klaus chatters on, and Five listens. He can always come back to the engine later.

Besides, it’s not like they’ll be doing this again.


	6. Confessions of a Ghostly Medium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several times Klaus speaks to his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This covers several times over the early years in the apocalypse, and you'll want to be all caught up to at least chapter seven of 'for the ones who need a hand'.

“Hey - uh, hi.

“So. I just wanted to say - hello.

“I mean, it’s stupid. Obviously you guys aren’t here. If you were here I could _see_ you. So there’s no reason to talk to you. You’ve all shuffled off the mortal coil - me too, bee-tee-dubs - and off the ghostly coil, too. Didn’t even say goodbye. Mom taught us better manners than that, guys, come on.

“So, there’s no reason for me to be here, ‘cause you aren’t listening. I know that.

“I just.

“I just wanted to say, uh.

“Miss you.

“Like, not a lot. But, uh.

“Some.

“Okay, bye.”

**********

“Hey, Benny-boy.

“And you others, but you’re less cool.

“Ben, you’re less cool than me, but some of my glory has reflected off onto you over the thirteen years we spent together, so you’re kind of cool. I’m sure you’re ecstatic.

“So.

“Today I managed to get Five outside. We, uh, kinda had a big fight. Like, Luther-and-Diego big. Yeah, it wasn’t fun.

“But we made up! Five threw snowballs at me, it was fucking adorable. I’ve never seen him act like a _kid_ before, it’s _weird._

“I’m going to try to get him to go outside more. I’m, uh, not really sure if I can be killed twice, but if I do pop up wherever you guys are, it’s because Five managed to banish me with the power of math because I kept dragging him outside. Just so you know.

“I really hope we don’t fight again.

“I mean, we’re gonna. But I hope it’s not as bad as this one.”

**********

“Hey, everyone! Happy birthday! For Five, anyways, the rest of us are dead and don’t have to count those anymore.

“He’s coming, by the way. He’s saying goodbye to Delores. I’m going to get those two together if it’s the last thing I do.

“Wait, ‘the last thing I do’ refers to doing it before you die, right? What should I say, then? I’m _already dead._

“I’m going to make that into a joke somehow, just you watch.

“So, uh.

“Unrelated to our birthday, I have something to get off my chest.

“Luther, this concerns you.

“It’s time to come clean. I know it’s really late to the game, and you’re probably never going to forgive me for this.

“That’s okay. You have a right to, and I won’t blame you. Just know that I still love you, no matter how you might feel about me after hearing this.

“I was the one who dyed your hair pink that one time, not Diego. I’m sorry.

“Well, actually, no, I’m not sorry, that was _funny as shit._ ”

**********

“Hey, hey, guys, guess what! I did it! I convinced Five to try Ghost Tag!

“Oh god, you should have _seen_ it! I was all ‘I’m here! Wait, no, I’m over here! Gotcha!’ and Five was popping all over the place, I could barely keep track, and I _totally_ saw him smiling, don’t listen to him when he says he wasn’t.

“And he didn’t say no to another game! I’m going to bring it up in a week or so, since he didn’t _take_ the veto and I’ll be very casual about bringing it up again -

“Yes, _Ben,_ I can be casual.

“- and then we can play it again! It’s foolproof!

“And -

“Uh, can you guys keep a secret? I don’t want to assume, considering how you managed to blow Ben’s death, _Vanya,_ so what do you say?

“Okay, so I, uh,

“I think I’m actually starting to like spending time with Five.

“I know. Weird.

“But. Well.

“I’m really looking forward to playing more Ghost Tag.”

**********

“Hi, everyone.

“I.

“The, uh.

“We’re doing it tomorrow.

“The - the operation, I mean.

“So.

“Just.

“Just in case.

“If you - see him.

“Could you send him back? Please?

“I don’t -

“I don’t want to be alone.

“Okay.

“Thanks.

“Love you.”


	7. Office Politics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between chapters 11 and 12 of ‘for the one who need a hand’, or thereabouts.

“Uh, Dot?”

Dot looks up from the file she’s working on and smiles. “Randall, hi!”

Randall smiles awkwardly back. Oh, damn, did she forget to send him that form about the adjustments to violin bow structural integrity? He was working on some case relating to violins, she knew, but she really needed to make sure Vanya Hargreeves’ bow is strong enough to withstand channeling her power -

“So I, uh, I heard that there was some strife in the apocalypse?” Randall said, looking hopeful.

Dot blinked, and leaned back in her chair. On one hand, at least she was remembering correctly about sending that form. On the other -

“You wouldn’t be asking for any _monetary_ reasons, would you?” she says, not quite chidingly but somewhere in the general neighborhood.

Randall has the grace to look embarrassed. “Yeah, I know, I know, you don’t like the betting. And I’m not asking you to divert resources or anything! Just - maybe a hint? Do you know?”

Dot sighs and looks him over. She notices that a couple other of her coworkers are being suspiciously quiet in their work, and Dennis is unsubtly leaning back in his chair to eavesdrop.

“I don’t check in on them _that_ often,” Dot says, raising an eyebrow and ticking up a corner of her mouth. “There _is_ actual work to be done, and they’re stable enough.”

“Of course, of course,” Randall says hurriedly, not losing that eager-puppy look.

Dot shakes her head, but can’t prevent a smile. “Last check-in showed them fraying at the seams,” she divulged. “They’ll recover, they always do, but the blow-up is going to be bad.”

Randall leans in closer, and Dennis gives up any pretense of working. “ _How_ bad?” he asks.

“Mm,” Dot considers. “Maybe a - seven? Eight? Call it a seven-point-five.”

_“What?”_ Annie pipes up from two desks down, looking deeply dismayed. “But I put down money on being at least a nine!”

Dot shrugs. “Sorry, Annie.”

Randall, at least, looks satisfied. “Well, that’s good enough for me. I’ve got money on the seven-to-nine range. Thanks, Dot.”

“You’re not welcome,” she wags a finger at him. “And don’t do it again, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Randall grins as he meanders back to his desk, and Dot can hear the slight uptick in muttering around the room as her coworkers try to adjust their odds of winning the pool on Number Five and Klaus Hargreeves.

Dot rolls her eyes to herself and gets back to work. Betting on various cases isn’t really _encouraged,_ but the higher-ups look the other way most of the time. Being in Management is just so _boring,_ most of the time.

At least she’ll get half the cut. Running the whole thing does give her an edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take a shower after this, I hope you do the same.
> 
> Dot is a deeply weird and fascinating character to me, in that she’s chipper and nice and yet literally engineers the actual apocalypse from a comfy desk job. I totally see her as running like half the betting pools in the office on the down-low, using her unassuming demeanor to make people forget that she has the ruthlessness necessary to wipe out all human life with a smile.
> 
> That, or she's just spectacularly, _mindbogglingly_ oblivious to the fact that Five Definitely Does Not want to hang out with or interact with her. But I like my interpretation better.


	8. The Left Hand Doesn't Know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all can thank TheArchaeologist for this one. They suggested something like this, and it was too good to pass up.
> 
> Takes place between chapter 14 and chapter 15 of 'for the ones who need a hand'

Five breathes in carefully. He looks at his hand. His _only_ hand, now.

It’s been nearly six months since the accident, and in all that time Five hasn’t used his powers. Mostly because he hasn’t needed to - Klaus has calmed down, but he’s still very zealous about making sure Five has everything he needs whenever he might need it. There’s also something to be said for conserving his energy. While jumping is second nature to Five, it can get tiring, and he needs to heal.

But he’s nearly done with healing, and Five needs to do this. Because it will help him get past the final reason he hasn’t used his powers - the fear that they might be affected by the accident.

It’s irrational, of course. Just because his hands glow when he jumps doesn’t mean losing one of them will make him unable to. They’re an _indicator_ of his power, not the source of it. There’s no reason at all for his jumps to be affected.

 _‘Five,’_ Delores says gently, where she’s resting on the couch. _‘Don’t think about it. Just do it.’_

Right. Right, she’s right. He just has to jump. It’s his _power,_ the one he’s had his entire life, and while time-jumping is still a mystery to him he knows space-jumping inside-out. He’s got this.

Five reaches inside himself, and feels that familiar thrum of energy, and he _jumps -_

\- and promptly smacks face-first into a wall.

 _“Shit!”_ Five yelps, hand coming up to his face. When he pulls it back, it comes away bloody. He can feel the wetness dripping down from his nose.

He blinks at it, the pain in his temple disorienting him for a moment. “What -”

“Five?” he hears, and fuck. Klaus comes into the living room. “You okay, I heard - ghuh.” Klaus goes pale when he sees Five, and he rushes over. “Five? Five, what happened, are you okay -”

“Klaus,” Five interrupts. He holds out his hand, then quickly withdraws it when Klaus flinches at the blood. “Klaus, it’s okay, I’m fine, just a bloody nose. I’m fine. I’m _fine,_ Klaus.”

It takes a couple more repetitions and a cloth to stem the bleeding, but Klaus eventually regains color in his face. Keeping his brother calm is an excellent way to distract himself from thinking about the jump, so it isn’t until fifteen or twenty minutes later when Five’s mind start to dwell.

What went wrong? The jump felt mostly normal, insofar as Five can judge these things when it happens in a split second. But there was a moment where it felt like….he frowns.

It almost felt - lopsided?

“So,” Klaus says, sitting next to him on the couch, Delores on his other side. “What _were_ you doing that got you a bloody nose, brother dearest?”

“None of your business,” Five grumbles. Immediately, he realizes that was the wrong thing to say when Klaus levels him an unimpressed look.

“Considering you nearly gave me a heart attack, I think it _is_ my business.”

“It won’t happen again,” Five argues. And it won’t. He’ll make sure of it.

Klaus rolls his eyes. “I understand you’re getting the last of your teenage rebellion out of your system,” he informs Five, “But you should just give in now. I’ll find out. Just make it less painful overall and tell me. Right, Delores?” He glances at Delores, nods and turns back to Five. “See? She agrees with me.”

Five gapes in betrayal. “Delores!”

 _‘He’s right and you know it,’_ Delores says unsympathetically.

Five glares at her, then at Klaus.

Klaus raises an eyebrow.

“....I was trying to jump,” Five mumbles eventually.

“Jump?” Klaus frowns. “Your power? And it didn’t work?”

“It _worked,_ ” Five snaps back instantly. “I just - got thrown off-course.”

“....That can happen?”

“Apparently,” Five grumbles. He tells his heart to calm down. It’s _fine,_ he’ll _fix it._ “I think it’s related to my arm. It felt almost lopsided, when I jumped. I think I should be trying to compensate for my changed body.”

It feels right. After all, when he pulls himself through space he has to account for - well, himself as a whole. And that whole just got lessened. Not drastically, but enough to throw him off by a few feet.

He’ll have to go outside to practice, for a while. Smacking into more walls doesn’t sound like his idea of a good time.

“Oh,” Klaus says. “Do - do you think you’ll be able to get back to normal?”

Five looks at his brother. Klaus looks uncertain, with a hint of fear, and there’s _guilt -_

“It’s not your fault,” Five says, maybe louder than is considered polite when indoors. Klaus jumps slightly. “I was the one who asked for it to be amputated, remember? I weighed the possibility of this happening,” not really, but Klaus doesn’t need to know that, “And I decided it was worth it. And honestly, I don’t think it’ll take more than a few months to get used to it. Less if I can practice more often….”

Here Klaus snorts, and Five is relieved to see the previous look vanish. “Not a chance, you grumpy workaholic. You’re getting eight hours of sleep a night if it re-kills me.”

Five rolls his eyes. “Ugh.”

Well, he can’t have everything.


	9. Headcanon: The Half-Body Problem

So as I have found out, writing Delores when there’s two people around to hear her is very complicated. There are some rules I set up for myself when writing the three of them interacting with each other, and I decided to put them up to perhaps have a few instances make more sense.

> 1\. Klaus and Five both have a fairly good grasp of Delores’ personality. It was mostly developed by Five, in the four months he was alone with her before Klaus manifested. Klaus just sort of followed Five’s lead on it, but added a few flourishes here and there.
> 
> 2\. They can guess, with reasonable accuracy, Delores’ opinion on a wide variety of subjects and conversations, even ones they aren’t present for. Since they both know her so well, it means that they can both hear her saying something tonally similar, even if the exact words are different.
> 
> 3\. They will often repeat aloud the words Delores has said to them, so that the other knows how they heard her. It’s like how Five does it in canon, except there he’s doing it for the benefit of the audience and here it’s for the benefit of each other.
> 
> 4\. Whenever they have an argument, it’s basically a race to see how fast they can claim that Delores agrees with them. Sufficiently serious arguments have them agreeing that Delores remains neutral.
> 
> 5\. Misrepresenting Delores’ personality is a major no-no. They just don’t do it. The other would come down on them like a ton of bricks.
> 
> 6\. Both of them know all these rules. The catch is that they were all developed without discussing it, and they never will be. It all remains completely subtextual. Talking about it would just break several things that they have every desire to preserve.

Hope that clears up a few things! 


	10. Five Graves And Number Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter and style of Klaus' conversations with his siblings went over really well, so I decided to do some of Five's. I might do more if people want, they're pretty interesting to write.
> 
> Like before, this covers several years. You should be all caught up to the end of 'for the ones who need a hand' to read this.

“Hi, everyone.

“Klaus says I should talk to you more. I don’t - you aren’t really here. He admitted that, and he’d know.

“But he talks to you a lot, apparently. And - he says it helps. He thinks it’ll be good for me.

“He didn’t say _why_ it would be good for me, but he promised to do extra scouting for blackboards and notebooks specifically if I came. I really need more of those. So here I am.

“I mean - I do want to talk to you all. Just.

“The real yous.

“That’s what I’m working on. I don’t know if Klaus told you. We’re going to go back and prevent all of this from ever happening.

“Both of us, I mean. If Klaus told you I’m leaving him behind, I’m not. I _wouldn’t._

“I can’t believe he ever thought that. Idiot.

“I don’t know how you could stand him for so long, Ben. He’s mentioned that you had a _look_ that scared him into doing what you wanted, sometimes. I’m going to try and copy that, and then I’m going to use it whenever he tries doing that stupid daily hugging thing. I’ll keep you updated on my progress.

“And on my progress on time-travel. It’s -

“Well.

“I told you it’s going to be a while on that one.

“I mean.

“A long while.

“I haven’t told Klaus how long. But. Decades, maybe.

“So.

“I wouldn’t be telling you this if you were actually here. Obviously.

“But you aren’t. And that’s -

“That’s why I’m doing it.”

**********

“Okay, so I don’t even care anymore, I refuse to feel embarrassed ranting to you, because _no one is here except me_ and that means no one else will ever know what I’m saying and none of you will ever even know I did this, I made sure Klaus won’t tell you when we get back because he might have a lot more blackmail on me but I don’t have _none,_ so. And speaking of Klaus, that’s just who I came here to rant about.

_“I cannot deal with him any more._ Oh my god, what the _fuck._ Every time I turn around he’s mother-henning me and carting me off to sleep and making me ‘eat healthier’ or some shit and _I am going insane._ Klaus says I’m going through the ‘resentment stage of adolescence’ or something but I know he’s quoting out of that psychology book he keeps carrying around, I doubt he knows words that long.

“And while we’re on the subject, I am _sixteen fucking years old,_ I do not need a fucking _manual_ like I’m a - a _car_ or something. I will be perfectly fucking _fine_ if he just _leaves me the fuck alone,_ but _apparently that is too much to ask._ He says that it helps him ‘understand my developmental needs’ but earlier today he admitted it’s actually basically the only thing keeping him from punching me in the face.

“At this point, I’d take that in a heartbeat, but when I told him that he just left. Haven’t seen him since, but god, I just know he’s going to pop up again and ask if I’ve eaten yet. Which, fine, I haven’t, but what the fuck is wrong with that, it’s not like one missed meal is going to kill me. _Not like Klaus has noticed that._

“So I’m here because Delores actually fucking agrees with him on a lot of things, which is doing wonders to mitigate my crush, at this rate I should loathe her within the month. You’re the only people who will actually fucking _listen,_ which is idiotic because you’re _dead_ and I would say that apparently that’s what it takes for someone to actually fucking listen to me but Klaus is _also_ dead and he might as well be _deaf._

“And whenever I start ranting at him he just calls me an emo bundle of hormones. What that fuck is ‘emo’, even, I think he made that up just to mess with me - It _might_ have something to do with the hoodie he gave me a while ago with a picture of a knife on it, but that thing is comfortable so I don’t fucking care. If Klaus grins when he sees me wearing it again I’m going to fucking stab him, I don’t care how long it takes to work out the equations.

“....Where was I. Fuck. I can’t remember.

“Whatever. If any of this was ever actually heard by any of you I’d murder you myself, but that’s - not a problem. Is it. You’re all - already dead.”

“Fuck.

“Fucking puberty.”

**********

_“Delores said yes!_

“I confessed to her and said I love her and asked her and she said _yes!_ We’re together now!

_“Yes!_

“And Klaus helped with it - verging on obnoxious, but that’s Klaus - and honestly I think he’s more excited than either of us. He’s been leaving this fake plant everywhere in the bunker, and I think it has some romantic significance but I’m a little afraid to ask by now. I don’t suppose any of you would be interested in manifesting after all these years just to explain mistletoe?

“Yeah, didn’t think so.

“Well, I guess I’ll figure it out myself. After spending more time with Delores. And working on my equations. And getting winter supplies. And - okay, I probably won’t ever get around to it. Klaus will just have to deal. He’ll pout, but I don’t care. I can just go on a date with Delores!

“- Wait.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to go on a date with Delores.

_“Oh god, what am I going to do.”_

**********

“Hey.

“You might have noticed I’m down an arm now. I’ll assume Klaus informed you of recent events, so.

“That’s that, really.”

**********

“So. We’re moving tomorrow.

“Guess this is goodbye.

“We’ll still come back to visit. Every year on our birthday, just like we agreed. And I think Klaus is going to run back here once in a while when he has a day or two to spare. But -

“It’s still goodbye.

“Not for good, obviously.

“But it’s - the first step. One day it _will_ be for good, and I think it might be best if I had - practice, when that comes.

“Klaus says I have attachment issues and obsessive tendencies. I said he sounds like he swallowed that fucking textbook, and if he didn’t stop quoting it I’d make that literal. He pretended to be all aloof, but I could see him smirking.

“I should really stop being so easy to rile up. Item number four thousand seven hundred eighty-one, then. Should get to it presently.

“But anyways.

“Klaus said he came earlier. I don’t know what he said, but I can guess. He’ll take care of me, keep me alive and safe, and make sure I eat. Am I right?

“Yeah, ‘course I’m right.

“I don’t mind it much, anymore. Not really. He’s an idiot, but - he’s my big brother, and I love him.

“Heh. Look at that. I can even say it, now.

“I love you too, you know.

“When I get back, I’ll say it to you as well.”


	11. Announcement: Fanart!

Oh my god you guys the most amazing thing has happened! This series now has FANART!

It was made by the lovely NerdCat_aydsa (blue_bunnycat) (hello, nice to meet you, I love you), and it's so beautiful you guys go check it out!

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866775


	12. Moving In, Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between chapters 15 and 16 of 'for the ones who need a hand'.

Five looks around the room.

It’s bare and undecorated, at least for now. Knowing Klaus, it will soon be sporting a veritable rainbow of colors and various kinds of mismatched furniture. There will be paintings with a high chance of being ripped in some place, and since Klaus discovered the joys of spray paint he’s taken to it with enormous enthusiasm.

It says a lot about Five’s proximity to his brother that he considers that something to look forward to. An actual interior decorator would probably faint at their preferences by now.

Regardless. The room is decently large, enough that making it into a common room would probably leave it feeling far too empty even with all three of them in it. Five decides it’ll probably become the pantry instead. He hasn’t found a good place to serve as the common room, but there are enough lying around that he’s spoiled for choice.

Five trails his fingers along the wall. It’s actual drywall, instead of cement, and the change is jarring enough that Five thinks he won’t have any trouble remembering it’s not their previous bunker. The floors are hardwood, too. A few are actually carpeted.

Best of all is the building they’re actually under - a university library. Moderately-sized, it nonetheless has a respectable quantum physics section. Five can’t wait to get a look at the books. Most of them are even intact, sheltered from the weather for the past decade under the half-collapsed roof.

(Klaus looked surprised when Five said he found them the perfect place. Five is getting better at reading his brother, so that’s how he knows Klaus never expected to be thanked or praised for that. Which is why he did so in the first place - Klaus still gets a look of wonder every time Five says he loves him, even after four and a half years. Five both loves and hates that look, because it obviously makes his brother so happy but god, does he really need a constant reminder of how badly their family failed Klaus?)

Five goes back to the room he’s tentatively claimed as his own. It’s larger than his old room - larger than his room in the Academy, even, and Klaus finished clearing out the furniture and other objects it used to house before Five even got here. From the indents on the floor, Five thinks it might have been a filing room. The remaining space is breathtakingly empty, dizzying in its possibilities.

The northeast wall can be entirely devoted to bookshelves. It’s an enormous amount of space, and Five can’t help but grin when he pictures how many books will fit. The opposite wall can hold his bed - he’ll be using a sleeping bag until they find an intact frame and decent mattress, but that’s fine. There’s a sunken window that lets in rays of early afternoon light, which will be helpful as long as he gets some decent curtains. There can be a desk in the west corner - just for small projects, he’s already decided on a workroom. He decided he didn’t want one of the carpeted rooms, but maybe if he finds a nice rug….

“Decorating already?” Klaus says brightly.

Five turns to face him “Yeah. You?”

Klaus _beams,_ and Five feels yet another stab of guilt that it took until they _moved cities_ for him to realize that Klaus really needed a room of his own. He doesn’t sleep, and he never displayed any dissatisfaction with the common room, but Five _really_ should have figured it out sooner. Once he heard he’d be getting one of the rooms to himself, Klaus immediately began planning on how he’d decorate it and arrange it and fill it with those stupid knicknacks he found all over the place. He’s been so enthusiastic about it he’s missed that Five has been beating himself up over ignoring his brother’s need for a private space for a _decade._

“It’s _amazing,_ ” Klaus gushes, flapping his hands. “Look, look, come _look -_ ”

Five lets himself be dragged out of his bedroom and over to Klaus’. The basement is almost completely intact, and the library is larger to begin with, and as a result there are nearly three times the number of rooms they had in their old bunker. Five doesn’t even think they’ll be using all of them.

Klaus’ room is slightly smaller than Five’s, but he says he prefers it that way (“Nostalgia!” Klaus says cheerily, and Five’s heart clenches _again_ ). It also has a window, and is one of the carpeted rooms. It shares a wall with the eventual infirmary, which Klaus says will be useful for when he wants to get in some quick studying. Five isn’t actually sure whether that’s a joke or not, which just goes to show just how _different_ Klaus is from the teenager Five left behind.

“- and obviously I’m going to have candles _everywhere,_ but don’t worry, I won’t leave them lit when I’m not here, and over there’s going to have the squashiest beanbag I can find, and I was thinking of stringing up a hammock in that corner, and here’s where my trophy shelf is going to be, I’m going to go out and find a beautiful little delicate figurine for every time I save your life, I expect it to fill up in a month, and I think I should be able to find some posters somewhere -”

Five leans against the wall and smiles at Klaus. His brother is completely lost in his imagination, chattering on with a light in his eyes Five has never seen before. It makes Five’s heart twist.

“- and why are you looking like that?” Klaus blinks at him, and Five realizes his eyes are slightly watery. Klaus immediately comes over and gives him a hug. “Five? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Five denies, leaning into the hug and putting his arm around Klaus in turn. Not for the first time, he curses his younger self for not hugging Klaus with both arms while he had the chance.

“Nuh uh,” Klaus says. “Don’t even try it. What’s wrong, Five?”

Five sighs into his brother’s shoulder. “Just - you’re so excited,” he mumbles.

“....Yeah? This is exciting stuff.” Klaus sounds confused, which just makes the whole thing worse.

“You should have had this before,” Five says. He closes his eyes. “Back in our old bunker. You should have had a room of your own.”

“Oh,” Klaus says. He considers for a moment, and shrugs. “Would’ve been nice, I guess, but it’s fine, Five, seriously. And I have one now! It has a _window!_ ”

Five laughs, and tightens his grip on his brother. “Yeah,” he says, and they both politely ignore how choked it sounds. “Yeah, it does.”

Klaus’ hand comes up to cradle the back of Five’s head. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, bro. Honestly, it’s not a big deal.”

Five would really like to contest that, but he knows Klaus well enough to know that pushing further would only serve himself. He sighs again, and nods. “Okay. Love you.”

He can’t see Klaus’ face, but he can picture that expression of wonder, familiar as his own name by now.

“Love you too, Five,” Klaus says, and Five hugs him tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't until like four hours ago that I looked at my story and though 'holy shit Klaus didn't get his own room in the bunker', and I immediately felt like a terrible person. So this is my attempt to fix that.


	13. Headcanon: Hello & Goodbye

I’ve always been fascinated and deeply entertained by Klaus’ tattoos (as I’m sure most of the fandom is), but as I was rewatching the series for the 742nd time something hit me right in the face: Klaus is left-handed.

(So is Five, which I actually didn’t notice until the second rewatch, and it’s kind of hilarious to me that the last two people on Earth in this story are _both_ lefties. They literally rule the world! But I digress.)

The interesting thing about this is that Klaus’ ‘goodbye’ tattoo is on his dominant hand, and ‘hello’ is on his non-dominant one. Is that a deliberate choice on his part, to go with how his powers are more about goodbyes than hellos? Is it significant because he wants the ghosts to go away instead of get closer? Or is my imagination running away with me as I obsessively rewatch this show over and over again? (And why on earth is the tattoo on the wrong hand in the Netflix cover picture?) Who fucking knows. I just had to ramble on about it to you all because I am a hopeless nerd and have nothing better to do.

Peace out!


	14. Fear Thy Neighbor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place roughly halfway through chapter 5 of 'for the ones who think they can'.

Justin carefully - _carefully_ opens his door. Just a crack.

He doesn’t hear any sound. But that’s no indication.

The odds of running into Them, admittedly, are actually very low. They spend most of their time in their room (and no, he’s not making any cracks about it only having one bed, even inside his head, because he’s not entirely sure one or both of Them isn’t a mindreader). He’s only ever run into Them three times in the two weeks They’ve been here.

Which is still _far_ too many times.

Not many things perturb Justin. He doesn’t have a problem with being recruited to become an assassin, and the time-travel thing is just flat-out awesome. The level of surveillance The Commission has just elicts a shrug, and while the Handler is objectively kind of creepy he’s seen worse.

But _They_ get a _very_ wide berth.

Deciding to risk it, Justin quickly opens the door, and - oh thank fuck They aren’t there. He all but sprints down the hall.

The cafeteria is soulless, but serviceable. Justin sits next to another trainee he’s struck up a rapport with. He doesn’t know her name, or vice-versa. It’s against the rules, and they haven’t been assigned codenames yet. They’re friendly, though, or as friendly as you can get in The Commission, and Justin thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to have her as a partner.

She tilts her head a little as he sits down, and gives him a sympathetic look. “Trapped in your room again?” she asks.

This is why he likes her. Everyone else is appropriately disturbed by Them, but they all forget that he’s the one who has to live _right across the hall from Them._

“Yeah,” Justin sighs.

“It could be worse,” she says philosophically. “They could have done to you what they did to Summer.”

Justin twitches at the reminder. Stories about what happened to Summer are wildly varied, especially with his partner refusing to give any details, but the facts all agree that he’s permanently crippled. Agent health insurance doesn’t cover the kind of damage They did.

And Summer was a certified, experienced, bona-fide _field-agent._ Is it any wonder Justin is terrified of Them?

“Thank you,” Justin growls, “For reminding me that getting off with two broken thumbs was _lucky._ ”

She shrugs. “Well, you _were._ ”

Justin shivers and wraps his arms around himself, briefly. Then he lets go. He might be pretty new to The Commission, but showing weakness in this place has _got_ to be a bad thing. “I know,” he says instead, miserably.

She hums. “Well, They’ve moved up to only fighting Agents, now, so at least -”

Then she cuts herself off, and her eyes widen a fraction.

Justin knows before he turns around what he’ll see, but seeing the Devil in front of him is infinitely better than _not seeing the Devil at all._

It’s the one-armed one, of course. The other one, the mute one, never comes into the cafeteria. Justin doesn’t know why and doesn’t care to. He marches over to the food, takes a plate, and piles on a selection of apparently-random choices: six wrapped sandwiches, an overfull bowl of granola, the two least-ripe bananas, a bowl of croutons, and three bottles of water tucked under his arm. The plate looks precarious, and with anyone else Justin would be worried they couldn’t hold it with only one arm, but They don’t have to listen to petty things like physics.

And sure enough, when everything is to the man’s satisfaction, there’s a fold in space, a brief burst of blue light, and he’s gone.

Justin shivers.

“Glad we don’t have to fight Them anymore,” his fellow trainee murmurs.

Justin can only nod. His thumbs ache.

“By the way,” she says, leaning forward a little, “They _are_ fucking, right?”

“Dunno,” Justin says. “Maybe.” He never heard anything louder than a quiet laugh or two, but the _look_ on the one-armed one’s face when Justin made a crack about the mute one’s skirt is - hard to forget.

She looks a little disappointed to not get something more concrete, but drops the subject. That’s why he likes her. Everyone else can’t shut up about it.

They finish their lunch in silence, and go back to the training area.


	15. Announcement: MORE Fanart!

Ohmygosh you guys the wonderful siriuspiggyback has ALSO graced me with fanart! Since I'm going to be flailing on my bed shrieking with joy for the rest of the day, here's the link first:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070448

(aaaaa thank you so much!)


	16. When It Rains...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of my lovely new fanart, I offered siriuspiggyback a drabble request. You have only them to blame for this.
> 
> Takes place between 'this is for the ones who stand' and 'for the ones who need a hand'. I want to say Five is about - sixteen in this? Seventeen? Around there.
> 
> Trigger warnings at the end.

Five shuffles his feet. His siblings’ graves loom in front of him, a line of judges waiting for his confession. The sky is dark and stormy. Five should head back soon.

Instead, he sits on the ground and crosses his legs. He clasps his hands together in his lap and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

“Hey,” he says. The word is swallowed up by the silence that surrounds him.

Rather predictably, there’s no answer.

Five closes his eyes.

“I was talking to Klaus, earlier,” he says. “About - I can’t even remember, something unimportant. And he fell into talking about his street days. One of his stories, you know. It was pretty funny. I’m not stupid, I know there’s ones that aren’t nearly so funny, just like I know he’ll never tell me those ones.

“But,” Five says, and pauses. “But. He was talking, and he mentioned - staying with someone. And vaguely implied what he did to get them to let him stay.”

There’s the scent of rain, heavy in the air. Five wonders, if he stays outside and gets soaked to the bone, if he’ll feel lighter afterwards. Freer.

“It’s not the first time he’s mentioned something like that,” Five says to the sky. “Of course. He’s pretty casual about it. I knew he slept with people to have someplace to stay. And even if he hasn’t said directly, it’s not hard to figure out that he slept with them for drugs, either. Money. Hell, food. I don’t know.”

Five breathes slowly. In, and out. In, and out.

“I knew that already,” he repeats, staring up at the sky.

The ground is rocky beneath his legs. Five looks down at it, and trails his fingers in the dirt, leaving little furrows. He smooths them over, before looking back at his siblings.

Klaus’ own marker is unsteady, tilted to the side. It’s the most precarious of all of them, and if Klaus hadn’t said to leave it Five would have fixed it a while ago. The item wrapped around the pole isn’t very recognizable anymore, but once upon a time it was Klaus’ favorite feather boa, stolen from Allison when they were eleven.

Next to it is Ben’s. It stand up straight and tall, and if Five were more prone to flights of fancy he might almost think it’s giving a judgemental look towards Klaus’ marker for being so unsteady.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Five tells Ben. “It’s - I can’t imagine. Klaus says you were disappointed in him a lot, but I think - maybe you were, sometimes, but I think you must have mostly been worried. Worried and scared and - angry. Not at Klaus. At his - _customers._ ” Five’s lip curls, but the emotion quickly drains away and he’s left feeling even more tired than before. “But Klaus was the only one you could interact with, so he got the full brunt of it.”

Five sighs, and rolls a piece of jagged concrete between his fingers.

“I didn’t understand,” he confesses, quietly, not looking up. “I knew what sex was, obviously, before I came to the apocalypse. Mom’s lecture was fairly informative, I’m sure you all remember. But it was - clinical. Factual. I appreciated that, at the time. It wasn’t relevant to me at the time - and it still isn’t - but it was good to have a clear idea of the mechanics involved.

“It’s everything else I didn’t understand. Still don’t, for a lot of it.”

Five stops fiddling with the rubble, gently sets it down. He folds his hands in his lap again. The sky is darker now.

“There was a book,” Five says. “Science fiction. You know I love those, Vanya. None of the rest of you do, and Klaus only found out a while ago, but I do. The really soft kind, where physics just flies out the window and might as well be called magic. It’s pretty hilarious, most of the time.

“But I started reading this book, and there was - the main character. Who - well. They’d been. Raped. And it was - I was reading, and seeing this character struggle to come to terms with the entire thing, and it was the first time I ever realized there might be more to this whole sex thing than just the. Mechanics. And that’s been turning over in the back of my mind, these past couple weeks, and then Klaus told that story, and I just -”

Five stops talking.

The wind blows by, tugging at his clothes. It smells like rain, feels like the world is holding its breath, poised on a ledge.

Thunder rumbles, somewhere off in the distance. The last of the light is fading by now, and Five knows Klaus will be out looking for him soon.

His siblings’ graves loom in front of him.

“I knew, before,” Five mumbles, staring at the ground. “I just didn’t understand. And….and the worst part is - I don’t - I don’t think he understands, either.”

His siblings have nothing to say. They never do.

Five sits there, in front of the row of graves, until the light is nearly all gone. Then he gets to his feet, stiffly, and sways a little.

He jumps home.

He lands in his room, and closes the half-ajar door. He sits on the bed, rubs the edge of the blanket between his fingers absently. The lamp hasn’t been lit, so it’s pitch-black, but that’s alright.

There’s a knock on the door. “Five?”

“Here,” Five says.

“Oh good,” Klaus says cheerily. “Looks like rain soon, didn’t want you to get caught in it.”

“It’s started already,” Five says.

“Huh, really? I peeked out a few minutes ago and it hadn’t yet.”

“It has,” Five says. “Just now. Got some on me.”

“Well, alright, glad you came back then. Don’t want you to catch cold. I’m going to make dinner, any requests?”

“No.”

“Okay!”

Klaus sashays away. Five closes his eyes.

In the darkness of his room, he wipes the rain from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: discussion of rape and prostitution, mention of drug use.
> 
> I don't actually read sci-fi so I don't know what book Five read, but I figure it's the only way he's going to learn about this kind of stuff. Because no matter how smart he is, there's no way he could understand the seriousness of sexual assault when he was thirteen, especially with how socially isolated he was. And it's not like Klaus is a very good person to teach about it, either.


	17. Rolling With The Punches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place pretty much right after chapter 13 of 'for the ones who think they can'.
> 
> Special shout-out to ObliqueOptimism for inspiring me to write this particular POV!

The Trainer walks down the hallway, her shoes _clicking_ against the tile. No one dares delay her, not when she has _that_ expression on her face. Most clear out of the way when she passes.

She hasn’t trained all of the people in HQ, but it’s at least a decent fraction of them. That’s Gerald, who flunked out of agent training but proved to be a whiz with numbers, enough to get him moved to Management. That’s Hoshiko, who lost her partner and declined a new one, instead requesting that she switch to a desk job at the cost of two more years to her contract. There’s Tyler, who proved trustworthy enough to be one of exactly five people to work directly in the Briefcase Room, sending out individual Briefcases to agents at the Facility and authorizing repairs when they break down.

Knowing their names is strange. She doesn’t know the names of anyone while they’re under her tutelage, and honestly prefers it that way. Less chance of getting attached, not that that’s a very big risk in the first place. She still thinks of them as the strings of numbers she used to deliver reports on their progress.

There are certain ones, however, that she does think of using their names. Not because she’s grown used to it, but because she can hardly think of them without an overwhelming sense of irritation, and something so catastrophically chaotic deserves a name of its own. Like they do with hurricanes.

The Trainer reaches a door, and raps sharply on it. At the distracted “Come in,” she steps inside.

The Handler is someone she trained, but still doesn’t know the name of. She’s honestly not sure the woman remembers it herself. The Trainer is hardly in a position to throws stones there, _she_ only remembers her name as an abstract thing, something that is objectively hers but doesn’t have any actual _impact_ on her as a person.

“Not your usual reporting time,” the Handler says, glancing up. “What is it?”

“I’m here with a request,” the Trainer says brusquely. “Number Five and Raithe should have their downtime revoked. Or at least spend it somewhere other than the Facility.”

“Now, why would you request that?” the Handler says, marking something on the paper in front of her.

“Raithe caused absolute chaos throughout the Facility within hours of arrival,” the Trainer says, a slight hint of irritation seeping into her tone. She quickly steadies it and continues emotionlessly. “Electrical sabotage, harassment, graffiti, that thing with the jello - I don’t even know how he got jello, I've investigated everywhere - arson, theft, graffiti, rioting -”

“You said graffiti twice,” the Handler says, not looking up.

“There was a lot of graffiti,” the Trainer says, and shakes her head. “Look, the point is, he’s the personification of chaos. And then in the last few days Number Five decided to start requesting spars. He put everyone in the infirmary. _Everyone._ ”

“Even you?” the Handler says, finally looking up. “Well, that _is_ impressive.”

The Trainer nods. “Yes,” she says, because she has no delusions about her own skills. She’s very good. Number Five only managed to dislocate her arm and sprain her knee, but that’s the most she’s been injured in literal _decades._ He only managed it thanks to his teleportation, but he still _managed _it.__

“You can request a new body, if he inflicted permanent damage,” the Handler says, tilting her head.

“No, it wasn’t permanent. He’s not _that_ good,” the Trainer says. “But I don’t want him - or Raithe - back in the Facility.”

The Handler leans back in her chair. The Trainer waits patiently. She knows the Handler - she revels in being in control, playing with people’s heads out of sheer delight and fascination, like a child with a new toy they just can’t wait to take apart. Makes an unorthodox fighting style, but not a very efficient one. She’s much better suited to being in Management than in the field.

Eventually the Handler sighs. The Trainer isn’t sure why, when they both know it’s fake. “I’m sorry, I can’t grant your request.”

….Disappointing. Not all that unexpected, but disappointing. The Trainer tilts her head. “Why not?”

Not many people are allowed to question the Handler. Technically, the Trainer isn’t either. But the Trainer wields power slightly disproportionate to her standing, and still remembers when the Handler was a clumsy young woman who couldn’t handle a broken wrist. Her reverence for the hierarchy is a bit understated.

The Handler raises an eyebrow, but answers anyways. “Well. One, we need to keep an eye on them. Two, they’re too useful to alienate very much. Three, I’m hoping they’ll come around to our way of thinking, and that might be difficult if they never interact with us. And four, it gives us an idea of their psychology.” She pauses. “I suppose you could make a case for five, it’s just fun to see what they’ll do, but that one’s just my personal opinion.”

The Trainer thinks that over for a few seconds.

“I see,” she says, nodding sharply. “Very well. Thank you for your time.”

“For you, always.” The Handler smiles. They both ignore how it’s entirely empty of feeling.

The Trainer nods again, then turns on her heel and marches out. She lets irritation churn through her, but doesn’t allow any to show on her face. She hardly expected different, but the prospect of having to go through one more week like the past one, let alone multiple, is….frustrating.

In the halls, several people nod respectfully to her. She gives a miniscule tilt of her head back in acknowledgement. She strides back to the transfer point, her shoes _clicking_ against the tile.

Oh, well. So she has to deal with Number Five and Raithe for the next five years. It’s not the end of the world. She knows how to roll with the punches.


	18. Headcanon: The x-Body Problem

Okay, so it occured to me a while ago that if the Commission can make new bodies for people, then depending on how draining that is a lot of their higher-level employees are probably _way_ older than they look. I have no reference point for exactly how old, but it's got to be up there for the more crucial employees.

So I think that the Handler has got to be decently old. I'm not sure how old, but probably a century or two at least. And even I'm not sure how old the Trainer is, except that it's older than that. I'm thinking at least twice that.

The Trainer is prtty opaque even to me, but I think of her as someone who considers her body to be of paramount importance. Fighting, and training people to fight, is her life. So she doesn't really care about The Commission at all, she just works there because they can keep her body in peak condition for pretty much forever.


	19. (Royal) Blood On Your Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between chapter 13 and 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'.

“I have a theory,” Klaus announces, looking at the scene in front of them. “That theory is that The Commission is fucking with us on this one. They cannot possibly be serious.”

“I wouldn’t put it _entirely_ past the Handler,” Five allows. He peers at the paper in his hand. “But I really think this is our assignment.”

“Give me that,” Klaus snatches the paper and reads it, frowning. He huffs. “Well, they sure must be laughing their pants off.”

“Oh, no doubt about that,” Five says.

They look back at their target. Or, well, what they can see of him behind the nearly opaque silk curtains arrayed around him as he’s carried through the streets.

Because he’s a fucking _king._

“Is it actually regicide if he’s not our king?” Klaus asks Five.

“Yes,” Five says, not looking away from the palanquin.

“Huh,” Klaus looks back at the procession. “Well. Okay, let’s get cracking.”

**********

It doesn’t take too long to devise a plan, because they can teleport and go invisible and the world hasn’t yet invented the lightbulb. It kind of gives them an edge.

Klaus observes the king as he gets ready for bed. Honestly, the trickiest part of the whole thing is that they guy is _never_ alone. Probably to prevent assassination attempts, of course, but still. It’s annoying because it _works._

Finally, the king goes to bed, the last of the servants leave, and Klaus is the only conscious person in the room. He hums idly (not audibly, of course) as he moves aside the curtains and signals out the window.

With a flash of light, Five appears in the room. He looks around, and Klaus flickers briefly into visibility to wave. Five rolls his eyes, and waves back.

The moon isn’t particularly bright tonight, which means there’s hardly any light in the room. Five came by to learn the layout earlier, of course, but it’s still tricky to navigate. He starts picking his way over to the bed.

Abruptly, Klaus remembers the footstool. It’s a small thing, very frou-frou, something that wouldn’t look out of place in the Academy. It was put next to the bed so the king could get his shoes taken off. It’s still there, and right in Five’s path.

Klaus darts forward, but -

Five trips.

Klaus hauls him up by the arm, looking nervously at the bed. There’s no movement, great. And there’s no noise from the door, so the guards weren’t alerted. Klaus relaxes.

Five stands and brushes himself off. Klaus can tell, by the way he moves, that he’s annoyed with himself for tripping. Klaus rolls his eyes and nudges his brother in a silent poke at his perfectionist standards. Five makes a face only somewhat decipherable in the low light, but it’s very obviously his ‘oh-shut-up-Klaus’ expression.

Snickering noiselessly, Klaus almost misses it.

But he’s spent eighteen years reveling in the absolute silence of the apocalypse, and only managed to regain it six months ago. He’s always hyperaware of any noise made around him, his instincts jangling that the ghosts have come back, his boundary has failed, he can’t stop them. He’s always listening.

So when he hears the faint _shhh_ if a knife sliding out of its sheath, he reacts just as the king lunges from his bed.

Klaus shoves Five to the side, and his brother teleports away automatically. Probably before he even registers what’s happening. The knife sails through the air where Five just stood, and Klaus jerks back.

The king recovers quickly, though, and immediately straightens. He pulls back his arm for another lunge - this time aimed at Klaus - and opens his mouth to yell for help.

Klaus reacts without thinking.

The king stops. He blinks.

His head tilts down, and Klaus’s eyes follow his.

To his hand, sticking into the man’s chest.

The king blinks once again, and falls like a puppet with his strings cut.

Klaus stumbles backward.

Five reappears at his side. Klaus can’t see his face very well, but the whites of his brother’s eyes reflect what little moonlight there is. Five grabs ahold of Klaus’ hand, and tugs him over to the corner of the room. Klaus follows uncomprehendingly.

Five turns him around to face the wall. Klaus stands and stares at it. He can hear Five moving around behind him - probably staging the scene. With a little work, it can probably be made to look like heart failure. That’s what it was, after all. Hearts tend to fail when they have a semi-corporeal thing suddenly occupying the same physical space as them.

His thoughts are oddly distant. He barely reacts as Five takes his hand again.

His brother looks frustrated. He says, quietly, “Klaus.”

Klaus blinks at him.

“Klaus,” Five says, helplessly. “I can’t get out of the room without teleporting. I need to know if you can get out on your own. Can you do that? Can you meet me on that hill? Over there?”

He points through the window. It takes a second, but Klaus nods. Five doesn’t seem so reassured by this for some reason, but he utters a quiet “Fuck,” and grimaces.

“Okay. Meet me on that hill. I’ll be waiting for you, Klaus. I need you to be there as soon as possible. Okay?”

Klaus blinks, some of the fog lifting. Five needs him. He’s been taking care of Five for the past eighteen years, it’s almost reflex to do what Five needs him to at this point. He nods again, stronger this time.

Five relaxes, slightly. “Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Then he vanishes.

**********

“Well,” Five says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That. Fuck. _Fuck._ ”

Klaus takes a deep, unneeded breath. “It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he says. It comes out less steadily than he’d like, and he winces.

“Maybe,” Five says, pacing around their tiny room in the inn, “But I really fucking wanted it to be _later._ Preferably _never,_ but definitely later than only _eight months in! Fuck!_ ”

“You couldn’t have kept my hands clean forever,” Klaus says, with a ghost (hah) of a smile. He glances down at where his hands are sitting on his lap, and it slides off his face like oil.

Five notices, and curses some more.

Klaus tunes it out, instead opting to curl up on the bed. It’s not a very fancy bed. But it has a blanket, which he pulls over himself even if it doesn’t actually do anything for him.

“Hey,” Five says.

Lifting his eyes up, Klaus notes that Five has managed to come up next to the bed. His situational awareness is terrible, he should probably work on that. Five sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” Five says.

Klaus shrugs a little. “Not your fault.”

“Agree to disagree there,” Five says, looking away briefly. He refocuses on Klaus with a look of worry. “Is the ghost bothering you?”

“No,” Klaus shakes his head. “If there is one, it’s not any harder to keep him away.”

“Good,” Five says with relief. Klaus can’t help but feel the same way. He wonders if that makes him a bad person.

Well. Any more than he already is. It’s not like he hasn’t witnessed, planned, and aided dozens of murders already by now. The only difference here is that he did this one personally.

Klaus sighs.

Hesitantly, Five reaches out and puts his hand on Klaus’ shoulder. Klaus worms a hand out and puts it atop Five’s.

“I can’t really be - sympathetic. To what you’re going through,” Five says abruptly. He looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t - you know it’s not remarkable to me.”

“I know,” Klaus murmurs. “I remember.”

“Remember?” Five frowns.

“Your first,” Klaus elaborates. “Guy wouldn’t shut up for months. Not till you ran off. Then I guess he figured that was good enough, and left.”

Five opens his mouth. Then closes it. He swallows. “Oh.”

Klaus sighs again. He squeezes Five’s hand. “I know you don’t think about it like I do,” he says. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” Five blurts. “You’re hurting, and you hate that you killed him, and I can’t _help._ ”

“You are helping,” Klaus says. “Just by being here.”

“How does that help?” Five says, looking frustrated.

Klaus raises an eyebrow. Then he levers himself up into a sitting position, and wraps his arms around Five. Automatically, Five hugs back, and Klaus relaxes and smiles slightly.

“Don’t tell me _you,_ of all people, don’t know how someone just being there can help,” he says to Five.

He can practically feel Five blinking in surprise, his head on Klaus’ shoulder.

“....Oh,” Five says.

“Yeah,” Klaus says. “Oh.”

He feels some of the tension bleed out of Five. Not all of it, but some. Klaus sighs, and tucks his head deeper into Five’s shoulder.

“....Does it also help if I say I love you?” Five asks.

Klaus feels the familiar, confused shock of delight he always gets whenever he hears those words. It’s been over a decade, and he still can’t believe that someone is _saying_ that to _him._ That _Five_ is saying that to him. And he _means_ it.

“Yeah,” he says. “It helps a lot.”

“Okay,” Five says. “I love you.”

Klaus smiles into his brother’s shoulder. “Love you too, Five.”

They sit on the bed, and slowly, Klaus breathes easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea which king they killed here. I tried to look up which ones died in their sleep, but google kept only giving me King George VI, and I didn't want to piss off any Britons. So just think of him as King Plot Device of Placeholderland in the Year of Vagueness.


	20. Tomb Breakers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in honor of blue_bunnycat for my beautiful fanart. *blows kisses* Thank you so much!
> 
> (Yes, this means if you make me fanart you get a drabble request. INCENTIVES, MOTHAFUKAS)
> 
> Takes place between 'for the ones who need a hand' and 'for the ones who think they can'. Five is in his early twenties here.

Five is very calm.

No matter what Klaus says, he is very calm. His breathing is even, his heartrate is steady, and his hand isn’t shaking in the least. The world is in crystal-sharp focus, every detail available to him. He paces steadily in a circle, not too fast and not too slow.

He is _very_ calm.

“You seem a wee bit agitated, oh brother o’ mine,” Klaus says. He tucks his hands under his legs and tilts his head. “Don’t tell me my heartrending tale got to you, you’ll lose that badass, hardcore apocalyptic survivor vibe you’ve got going.”

Despite the lightness of his words, Five can tell Klaus is a lot more nervous than he’s letting on. His shoulders are tense, his eyes flitting across the landscape with barely a rest, his voice far too bubbly.

It makes Five feel even…. _calmer._

“I’m perfectly alright,” Five says. His voice is utterly, absolutely even.

“Right,” Klaus snorts. “And I’ve ever paid for clothes.”

Five hums absently, turning around again at the chunk of rubble shaped sort of like a dog. He retraces his footsteps. The rhythm is steady. Soothing.

“It’s, uh,” Klaus swallows. “It’s really not a big deal, you know.”

“Reginald locked you in a mausoleum,” Five says, and Klaus flinches back at that. Five wonders if anyone has _ever_ said it out loud to him before. He suspects not. “For hours. With corpses and insane ghosts. _You,_ who can see the dead.”

Klaus lets out a sound that’s _probably_ meant to be a laugh. “Well, yeah,” he says, looking out over the horizon, voice slightly higher than normal. “But, I mean. We all had special training. I’m sure yours was awful too. And seriously, it was years ago. Water under the bridge.”

Five grimaces at the memory of his own special training. It was awful, yes. Brutally demanding, of course. Traumatic….maybe. Slightly.

But it wasn’t _this._

“What,” Five says, voice clipped, reaching the end of his footprints and turning again, “exactly, did he expect to accomplish with this - tactic?”

“Uh,” Klaus says, curling in on himself more. “He wanted me to stop being afraid of ghosts.”

Five stops pacing.

He takes a long, long breath.

He breathes out.

“Of course,” Five says, his eyes closed. “Of course he did.”

“Yeah,” Klaus says, a faint hint of real humor in his voice now. “Classic Dad.”

Five breathes deeply again. He runs over the reasons in his mind why, no matter how much he wants to, he cannot go back in time and assassinate Reginald Hargreeves the day they’re all adopted and steal away his baby siblings to raise with Klaus. For one thing, he would get completely distracted by teaching his younger self quantum theory and neglect everyone else. For another, Klaus knows nothing about babies and would probably end up juggling them or something.

“Well,” Five says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you want confirmation he’s an utter asshole, you’ve got it.”

“Eh, knew that,” Klaus dismisses. He laughs again, and while it’s at least recognizable as such it’s definitely nowhere near his usual. “ _So_ glad I don’t sleep anymore, though.”

Five resists the _overwhelming_ urge to start pacing again. He keeps breathing deeply, instead.

“When did it start?” he asks.

“....Why?”

 _Because,_ Five thinks to himself. _I made it my job to protect you, all of you, and I failed. I knew you hated your training, but we all hated our training, and I never had the imagination to imagine what he was doing to you. I was young and stupid and didn’t understand. Help me understand._

“I want to know,” he says. “Please.”

Klaus can never say no to Five when he asks please. It’s manipulative, yes, and it makes Five want to crawl under a rock, but he _needs_ to know. And it goes both ways, even if Klaus says genuine pleases much more rarely.

Sure enough, Klaus sighs and looks away. His fingers tap on the edge of the rubble.

“Started when we were eight,” he says, trying to sound disaffected.

Five

stands

absolutely

still.

“....Five?” Klaus says. He sounds uncertain.

Five opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

“That,” he says. He swallows, and clears his throat. “That’s when you. Started drinking. Right?”

“....yeah,” Klaus mumbles. He shrugs, shoulders drawn in tight. “Around then.”

Five has to sit down.

Several minutes pass.

Klaus shuffles a bit. “Um,” he says. “Five?”

“Mm?”

“....What are you thinking?”

Five considers lying.

“....When I was very young,” he says at last. “I decided that I was going to protect all of you. It wasn’t very feasible, but. I tried. And now I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I failed more thoroughly than I previously thought.”

“....Uh,” Klaus says.

“It may take a while,” Five adds mildly. “You can go do other things if you want.”

There’s a short, baffled silence.

Then Klaus groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. He sighs with the strength that can only be mustered by someone who doesn’t actually need to breathe. It’s a very objectively impressive sigh.

“You,” Klaus says, “are a fucking idiot, Five. I need you to remember that, okay? A total fucking idiot.”

Before Five can do so much as open his mouth for a rejoinder, Klaus is down on the ground, hugging him. Five automatically hugs back, his single arm going around Klaus’ shoulders. Once again, he feels a surge of annoyance at his past self for being so bullheaded that he didn’t take the opportunity to hug Klaus with both arms.

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Klaus says, more gently now. “It wasn’t your fault. It was Dad’s for locking me in there and mine for turning to alcohol -”

“It was _not_ your fault,” Five snaps.

Klaus sighs again. “Fine, fine, whatever. But it wasn’t _yours_ either, okay? Not a speck.”

Five grits his teeth to prevent the torrent of words from escaping.

_I should have noticed - I should have made the connection - I should have tried to cut off your addictions when they were new - I could have jumped into the mausoleum and stayed with you - I could have distracted Reginald away from you - I didn’t even fucking realize - I **promised** myself -_

Klaus shifts slightly, as if he heard all of them, and starts running his hand through Five’s hair. “That might take a while,” he says, with a twist of irony in his tone. “But we’ve got time, yeah? We’ve got nothing but time.”

*****

Eight months later, watching the shattered remains of a cemetery burn into nothingness, listening to Klaus’ semi-hysterical laughter, Five thinks that yeah, there are occasions when he might not mind having an abundance of time. Especially if it’s used for this.


	21. Sand, Sun & Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in honor of ObliqueOptimism, who is one of my best readers and a great writer in their own right and is just an altogether lovely person. They gifted me a fic for their wonderful Deaf!Klaus series (go check it out you guys it's so good) and I just had to respond in kind.
> 
> This is set between chapters 14 & 15 of 'for the ones who need a hand'.

“So!” Klaus says, bouncing up and down and throwing his hands out wide. He grins at Five, nonexistent heart fluttering in his chest. “What do you think?! Pretty great, am I right?”

Five looks….distinctly underwhelmed. He shrugs, looking out over the water. “It’s okay,” he says noncommittally.

Klaus lowers his hands a bit. Five notices, and looks slightly apologetic.

“I mean,” his brother says. “It’s impressive, objectively speaking. I’ve never seen the ocean before. It’s just - I never thought about it.” He looks out at the expanse of water in front of them, and concedes, “It _is_ very big.”

Klaus can’t help but let out a laugh at that. He shakes his head, grinning to himself. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s very big. Come on, let’s go down to the shoreline!”

He keeps a close eye on Five as they make their way down to the water, but Five manages fine. There are a few moments where he tries to reach out with the arm he no longer has, but those instances are becoming fewer and fewer over the last several months.

It was a compromise to come to the ocean. Klaus flatly refused to go on their usual summer trip while Five is still adjusting to his lack of arm, and Five was very - _tetchy_ about that. Eventually, they agreed that the ocean could serve as an acceptable alternative. It’s farther than Klaus would have liked to travel, but if he’s honest with himself he considered the _Academy_ too far to travel.

He reminds himself, once again, that Five is _okay._ He’s missing an arm now, and that’s - not great. There are certain things he does need help with. But he’s okay. He’s not in danger, he’s perfectly healthy otherwise, and he’s no less capable of yelling at Klaus if he keeps getting smothered. He’s okay.

They reach the shoreline. It’s startlingly empty. There are a few corpses scattered around, but those are years dead and hardly even look like people any more. There’s driftwood and seaweed in a long line along the sand, pushed up by the tide. Klaus grins and plucks up a shell. Maybe from an oyster?

“Look,” he says, showing it to Five. He traces the shimmery surface of the inside. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It is,” Five says, although Klaus is pretty sure he’s just saying it to humor him. Five glances along the beach, eyes tracking over the undisturbed sand.

“Wanna make a sand castle?” Klaus says, leaning over and tracing a finger through the sand. The next wave comes in and smooths out the edges, and the one after that erases it completely.

“Sand is a terrible material for construction,” Five says disapprovingly.

Klaus giggles. “But it’s _fun!_ Or so I’ve heard,” he adds.

Five huffs, and kneels down in the damp sand. “Fine,” he grumps. “But I’m the architect, I can’t really build anything elaborate with one arm.” He traces out a quick sketch. “Make this shape for the outer layer.”

Klaus grins, and gets to work.

**********

Hours later, when the sun is nearing the horizon, Klaus lays on the sand, humming quietly to himself.

Five is stretched out a few feet away. He’s a little more tired, having a body to tire out and all, but he hasn’t overstretched himself. Klaus considers their beach day to be a rousing success.

Between them are two piles of various bric-a-brac. Weird bits of driftwood, shells, sea glass, interesting rocks, even the occasional bit of coral. Five definitively won their little contest, however, when he found what by all they can determine is probably a gold doubloon. It holds the place of honor atop his stack, worn and dull but still heavy with the weight of history.

“....I liked today,” Five says at last.

Klaus smiles up at the sky. “Me too.”

“We should come again tomorrow,” Five says.

Something catches in Klaus’ throat, so when he says, “Yeah,” it comes out less steady that he’d like it to be.

Which of course Five hears. His brother shifts in the sand, and Klaus can see him propping himself up on his arm to look over at Klaus.

“Klaus? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Klaus says, blinking up at the sky. The sun is just starting to send streaks of color across the clouds, a light dusting of pink that will slowly turn to reds and oranges and purples.

“Klaus,” Five says.

He closes his eyes, briefly, and swallows. “Nothing, really. I promise. It’s just,” he pauses. “Ben wanted to go to the ocean.”

It was more of an idle wish, of course. They both knew Klaus wasn’t able to get out of the city under his own power, much less go for a vacation at the seaside. Like every other one of Ben’s dreams, it was one that would never come true.

There’s a short silence.

“Well,” Five says at last. “I can see why. Today was - fun.”

Klaus twists his head a little to smile at his brother. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Five smiles back, which is - still enough to make Klaus reel sometimes, look back over his shoulder for whoever his brother is really smiling at. He’s still not used to someone being happy at his company, _wanting_ to be around him.

“And after we go back,” Five says, flopping back down onto the sand, “You can take him here. We can make a day of it.”

Klaus feels a lightness inside him, that warm glow he gets whenever Five talks about ‘after’. It took so long for Five to believe there would be one, and he still struggles with it sometimes, but hey, that’s what Klaus is here for.

“Yeah,” Klaus says, grinning up at the sky. “That sounds great.”


	22. Many Happy Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this because Klaus noted that Luther had 'a glazed look in his eyes' when they were bringing Five to the infirmary, but of course he had no way to tell why. This is why.

“Scissors,” Pogo demands, holding out his hand.

Luther gives them to him automatically, and watches as Five’s oversized clothes are cut off. He’s probably in shock, he realizes distantly. He keeps pressing down on Five’s stomach, where most of the bleeding is centered, but there’s also bleeding on his shoulder (where his arm used to be), and there’s so _much_ of it spilling over Luther’s hands and -

_\- “You’re okay, it’ll be okay,” he says - begs, really. Ben blinks sluggishly back at him, face far too pale and speckled with red. Luther tries to stop the bleeding, pushing harder, but Ben makes a sound of pain and he freezes, because he knows what his strength is capable of -_

\- and Luther blinks again, suddenly back in the infirmary. Pogo is taking off the bloodsoaked clothes Five is wearing, revealing his brother’s pale skin.

He’s so small. The Five of Luther’s memory is nowhere near this small - he actually looms _larger_ than Luther sometimes, thanks to his effortless command of anything within reach. Powers, academia, combat - Five excelled in every field, often leaving them all behind. Next to him, Luther had to constantly battle a creeping feeling of inferiority, because _he_ was supposed to be the leader, _he_ was supposed to be the best. Five always made Luther feel small.

Now, Luther’s hand nearly spans the width of Five’s chest. It’s dizzying, disorienting. Luther can only mutely follow Pogo’s instructions.

Then he lifts his hands from the wound, and catches a glimpse before Pogo puts gauze over it, and -

_\- it’s a hole, ragged and gaping, taking up far too much of his brother, spilling out things that should stay on the inside. Luther has seen the state of people Ben has killed with the Horror in the past, and it strikes him all of a sudden, with the inappropriate spontaneity such thoughts are renowned for, of the irony that the Horror has now visited the same fate on their container._

_But he’s not just a container. He’s Luther’s brother, and there’s a **hole** in him that shouldn’t be there, and -_

“It’s a gunshot wound,” Pogo says briskly, guiding Luther’s hands to press down on the gauze again. He looks at Five’s shoulder and corrects himself. “Two of them.”

“Someone shot him,” Luther breathes out. He tries to summon up the rage that thought should inspire, but it’s strangely numb. All of him is strangely numb, in fact.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s not entirely sure where he is. Which brother is in front of him, bleeding out under his hands? He can’t quite remember, but then again, does it really matter? They’re both dead, aren’t they?

“Indeed,” Pogo says, moving with quick, efficient motions. So different from Luther, stuck in his lumbering tank of a body. “Now, he needs blood. Could you go and bring back one of your sisters?”

“What?” Luther snaps out of his daze. “What about me? I can give him blood.” He has plenty to spare, at least.

“My dear boy,” Pogo’s eyes flick up to him with an apologetic look. “I’m afraid your blood has more similarities to _mine_ than to Master Five’s.”

Luther - doesn’t flinch. He _doesn’t._

“Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

He opens the door to where the rest of his siblings are sitting. They looks up at him, eyes laser-focused. Except Klaus, who’s looking at the corner of the room with a small frown, nodding slightly. He doesn’t even seem to notice Luther’s entrance. Typical, really, but ignoring Five’s return in favor of drugs is a new low.

“Vanya,” Luther says gruffly, jerking his head. “He needs blood.”

Vanya’s eyes widen, and she gets up with shaky legs. “Of course,” she says, scurrying into the infirmary. Luther shuts the door before anyone else can speak.

Pogo looks up briefly, and frowns slightly. “Hm, we may have to bring Miss Allison back as well. I mean no slight, Miss Vanya, but you may not be able to provide as much blood as he needs.”

Vanya tears her eyes away from Five, pale and unconscious and so, so still on the bed. A look of pain crosses her face as she registers the words, but she stiffens her spine and says, in a remarkably even tone, “Okay.”

Luther goes back over to Five as Pogo sticks a needle into Vanya’s arm. He looks at Five on the bed. His brother is still so small, and Luther can’t help but reach out a hand. Five’s chest is barely rising, and -

_\- he’s not breathing, he’s not breathing, why isn’t he breathing? It takes Luther longer than it should to realize, to understand what just happened, and he gasps and scrambles at Ben’s chest. No, no, no, this can’t be happening, he just missed it, of course Ben’s still breathing, he can’t be - he can’t be -_

\- Five lets out a soft breath, chest rising with the effort.

Luther snatches his hand back, and sucks in a breath. He turns and begins to help Pogo take Vanya’s blood.

He couldn’t save Ben, but he’ll save this brother. He will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaus was, of course, looking at Ben, keeping him updated on what's going on. And poor Vanya, even her size works against her.


	23. Omake: Picture Yourself, When You're Growing Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the 'Tomb Breakers' drabble, Five had a moment where he reminded himself how impractical it would be to murder Reginald and abduct his baby siblings to raise with Klaus. One commentator expressed regret at not being able to see this, and once I thought it over I fully agreed. And thus this omake was born.
> 
> This is, of course, set in a NoCommission!AU, because fuck those guys.

Aidan stomps through the house. This is _unacceptable._ He worked _so hard_ on those problems, and he got them _all right._ He got a sticker and everything! But then _stupid Evelyn _had to come and _mess it up.___

He searches the rooms. He could jump, but stomping feels better right now. It tells everyone that he’s _mad._

____

Finally, he finds Five in the dining room. He’s writing in a notebook. Aidan knows Five is working on Important Things, but _this is important too._

____

He stomps up and declares “Evelyn _colored in my workbook!_ ”

____

Five looks up, briefly. “Your brother is Evelyn now?”

____

“Yeah, he changed it a couple hours ago,” Aidan says. Then he remembers he’s mad, and stomps his foot. “And he _colored_ in my _workbook!_ ”

____

“That does sound frustrating,” Five says mildly. He marks something down. “What are you going to do about it?”

____

Aidan pouts. Then he stops, because pouting is what babies do and he’s _not_ a baby. He’s almost five years old.

____

“Can’t you yell at him?” he says.

____

“I could,” Five acknowledges. “But you know he never listens.”

____

That’s true, Aidan admits grudgingly. Evelyn only ever listens to Klaus, and that’s only because Klaus doesn’t let him play with makeup if he does something bad.

____

“But,” Five says, and Aidan’s attention sharpens, “If Evelyn’s dessert were to go _mysteriously_ missing tonight, I wouldn’t look very hard for the culprit.”

____

Aidan grins. “ _Awesome._ Thank you!”

____

“I didn’t do anything,” Five says mildly, not looking up.

____

“What are you working on?” Aidan says, craning his head to look at the notebook. He scrambles up onto a chair.

____

“Temporal manipulation and mending the consequences thereof,” Five says absently.

____

It takes Aidan a few seconds to figure that out, then he _grins_ and starts bouncing on the chair. “Time travel! You’re talking about time travel!”

____

“Indeed I am,” Five says.

____

“And I can do time travel one day too, right?” Aidan says eagerly. “Once I get better at my spatial jumps and practice more -”

____

He’s cut off with a squeak as Five grabs his wrist. Five pins him with a glare. “You are _not_ going to mess with time travel unless it is _absolutely_ necessary, Aidan. It’s _dangerous._ Do you understand me?”

____

Wide-eyed, Aidan stares at Five.

____

“....Okay,” he says, voice very small.

____

Five lets go of his wrist. Aidan looks at it. It doesn’t _hurt_ or anything, but Five hardly ever grabs them without warning.

____

“....I’m sorry for scaring you,” Five says. “But I need you to understand, Aidan. Time-travel _cannot_ be treated lightly. If I am going to teach you to use it, you must agree to _only_ ever use it in the most _dire_ of emergencies.”

____

Aidan hesitates.

____

“....Like you did?”

____

Five tenses. A few seconds pass.

____

Then he relaxes, and lets out a breath.

____

“Well,” Five says. “I pretty much expected you to figure it out sooner or later. How much do you know?”

____

Aidan bites his lip, and twists his fingers together. “Um,” he says, “Just that you time-travelled, and you’re….you’re _me,_ aren’t you?”

____

Five leans back in his chair and gives a tired smile.

____

“Yeah,” he says. “I am.”

____

“And,” Aidan says, suddenly bolder. “And Klaus is - he’s Evelyn. Right?”

____

“Got it in one,” Five says. He puts his hand on the table and looks sideways at Aidan. “And I suppose you have some questions about us.”

____

“Um,” Aidan says, wrinkling his nose. “I guess. Why don’t you have both arms?”

____

Five lets out a huge laugh all of a sudden, which makes Aidan jump. He settles back down and looks at Five in confusion. What’s so funny? He was being _serious._ He doesn’t want to lose _his_ arm!

____

The laughter winds down, and Five wipes at his eyes. “Oh god, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” Five says, grinning. He looks at Aidan. “That’s - not really important, Aidan. I promise it’s not going to happen to you, and that’s all I’m going to say about it. Okay?”

____

Aidan makes a discontented sound, but eventually grumbles out an “okay.”

____

Then he looks at Five and wrinkles his nose. “If you’re here, though,” he says. “What about your Ben and Vanya and Luther and Allison and Diego? Why’d you come back and leave them?”

____

The smile slides off Five’s face like he’s been punched.

____

He stays very still for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath.

____

“Something….very bad happened,” Five says, carefully. “In the future. Klaus and I decided to come back and stop it, and then we realized that -”

____

He pauses.

____

Even more slowly, he says, “None of us were very….happy, Aidan. Not when we were kids, and not when we were adults. So Klaus and I decided that we wanted to give our siblings - and us - a better life than we got the first time around. And - that’s why we’re here, raising you.”

____

Aidan turns that over in his mind, frowning.

____

“Why weren’t we happy?” he asks.

____

But Five shakes his head. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he says, and raises his hand at Aidan’s protest. “No, Aidan. That’s my and Klaus’ story to tell, and we aren’t ready yet. I don’t know if we ever will be, with you all -” he breaks off, and looks away.

____

Aidan blinks, confused.

____

A thought occurs to him. His eyes widen. “Did we never get dessert? Was that why we were sad?”

____

Five sucks in a lot of air. He lets it out, and it sounds kind of funny.

____

“Yeah,” he says. He blinks a few times. “Yeah, that’s why.”

____

_“Oh.”_ Aidan says, horrified. “That’s _awful._ I’m glad you fixed that, then. And the other thing.”

____

“Me too,” Five says. “Me too.”

____

Five takes another deep breath, and waves his hand, like he’s brushing away whatever’s making him sad. He looks back at Aidan, and gives a small smile.

____

“Did Klaus say when he’d be back with Vanya?” he says.

____

“Six o’clock, like _always,_ ” Aidan says, rolling his eyes. “And you’re _really bad_ at changing the subject.”

____

“You know that when you insult me, you’re also insulting yourself, don’t you?” Five says, eyebrow raised.

____

Aidan huffs. “No I’m _not,_ ” he says, “because I’m gonna be _better_ than you, just you watch.”

____

“I don’t doubt it,” Five says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself.

____

Then he shakes himself, and stands. “Well, it’s almost six, so Klaus and Vanya should be back soon -”

____

There’s the sound of a door opening, and then a loud call of “We have _returned!_ ”

____

Aidan grins, and jumps to the front hall. He hears the echo of his power a second later, and knows Five is right behind him. He beams at Vanya and waves.

____

She beams back. “Aidan! Guess what, I wrote my name in the air with sticks!”

____

“Cool!” Aidan says. And, since he can’t help but brag, he adds, “I’m gonna learn _time travel_ one day!”

____

“Oh really?” Klaus says, closing the door. “Five, what _have_ you been teaching him?”

____

“Nothing yet,” Five snorts. “There’s still a long ways to go before we get to _that._ ”

____

“Thank goodness,” Klaus says. “I can only handle spontaneous unexpected powerups every so often.” He ruffles Vanya’s hair, and she pouts at him and tries to comb it back down.

____

Klaus comes over and hugs Five, who hugs back. They do that a lot. Aidan likes hugs, but it’s kind of weird how Klaus and Five hug, like, almost every time they see each other. They stand still, and for a moment it’s almost like they’re the only two people in the whole world.

____

Then there’s the sound of an avalanche of running feet, and Aidan’s other siblings arrive. They swarm all over Klaus, who laughs and pretends like he hasn’t brought back candy from that corner shop by the park where he and Vanya go to train her powers.

____

“You know the rules,” Klaus chirps, batting away Ben’s tentacles as they try to dip into his pockets and plucking Diego off his back. “No candy before dinner!”

____

“And yet you eventually cave in and give it to them before then _every time,_ ” says an amused voice as it comes down the stairs.

____

Dave reaches the bottom of the steps and laughs at Klaus’ wounded face. Then he kisses Klaus, which prompts a round of ‘eww’s from all of Aidan’s siblings. Aidan wrinkles his nose as well. Hugs are nice, but kisses are _icky._

____

Klaus sort of melts into the kiss, though, so _he_ must like it some. Dave (who looks way older than Klaus but is actually a little bit younger, because being a ghost ‘comes with great benefits package’, whatever that means) does the same thing.

____

“Alright, alright,” Klaus says, breaking away from the kiss with a laugh. “God, you can get me to agree to anything if you throw in a kiss like that, babe. Come on, let’s get dinner started. Five, the kids are with you.”

____

“Joy and rapture,” Five drones, but gently herds them all away back upstairs.

____

Aidan walks next to Evelyn. He looks at him consideringly.

____

Evelyn notices. He bounces and grins. “Where’d you go, Aidan?”

____

Aidan sniffs. “None of your _business,_ Evelyn.”

____

“Actually, I’m Riley now!” he says. “Dave says it can be a boy name _and_ a girl name! Isn’t that _cool?_ ”

____

“Whatever,” Aidan sniffs. They reach the playroom. Aidan stops and looks at Riley consideringly.

____

Riley blinks back at him.

____

Without warning, Aidan hugs him. Riley squeaks a little, before hugging back nice and tight (he’s also wiggling a lot. Riley is very wiggly in general).

____

….Okay, Aidan grudgingly admits. Riley is a pretty good hugger. He _guesses_ he can see why Five hugs Klaus so much.

____

He lets go, and Riley smiles at him. “Does this mean it’s okay that I drew in your workbook?”

____

_“No.”_

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, in a conversation that happened several years before this fic:
> 
> Klaus: And baby-you shall be named Aidan!
> 
> Five: What the fuck? Why Aidan?
> 
> Klaus: Because you’re so obviously an Aidan!
> 
> Five: I am _not._ If you’re naming baby-me Aidan, I’m naming baby-you Robert.
> 
> Klaus: What the hell, I am NOT a Robert!
> 
> Five: Oh, but you so obviously are.
> 
> Klaus: AM NOT! >:P


	24. Announcement: EVEN MORE Fanart!

I have been blessed with yet more fanart! This time the author is the wonderful cylikkious. *waves* Thank you!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528766


	25. Headcanon: Blood Buddies

Okay, so the scene where Allison received blood was very interesting to me. I was very confused at it, because literally everyone stepped forward to donate. And of all the reasons why they could or couldn’t, not a single one was ‘blood type.’

This is extremely weird! Not a single one of them are genetically related! What are the odds that they _all_ have the same blood type?! Allison received Diego’s blood just fine, and I’m halfway certain Five had to have a transfusion when he collapsed, because he’s a dumbass like that (in which case, Allison probably donated).

So apparently all the sibs have the same blood type. Which logically implies that _all_ the magic babies have the same blood type. Which….I’m not sure what else that implies, but it sure is interesting. Did they inherit their mother’s blood types? Does that mean there was _selection criteria_ for the mothers? Did Reginald notice this particular quirk and did he consider it important? Or did he know the answer, even? I am fascinated.


	26. The Twink Shall Inherit The Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, everybody! Here's the first drabble of five. Special thanks to bravechicken for the suggestion!
> 
> Set between 'this is for the ones who stand' and 'come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all'. Five is fifteen.

Five is uncharacteristically silent today. At least, in Klaus’ opinion. He’s still not the best at reading his brother, but Five is even quieter than usual. He hasn’t grumbled about the scientific flaws in his pulpy sci-fi novel in _hours._

Klaus does consider a subtle approach. He really does. For a few seconds, anyways.

“So,” he says, propping his chin up on a hand. “What’s the bee in your bonnet, o brother o mine?”

There’s a faint aura of surprise when Five looks up. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you,” Klaus advises. “You know what I’m talking about. Why aren’t you despairing over however they’re depicting FTL in that book of yours? Or plotting how you’d take over the aliens with a few strategic assassinations?”

“There aren’t aliens in this one,” Five replies, probably automatically. Then he shakes his head. “And I’m just reading it, Klaus. I can do that without commentary.”

Klaus gives him an eloquently skeptical look.

To which Five rolls his eyes. “If you’re that starved for attention, go talk to Delores. I’m at a good part.”

He goes back to reading. Klaus squints at him, and debates whether he should push it. On the one hand, Five is fifteen years old and well into his ‘sullen teenager’ phase (joy of joys). There’s a very good chance Klaus is misreading him, or that prying further will cause him to become outright annoyed. On the other hand, Klaus is just now remembering how Five produced drastically fewer scribbled equations this morning, and was sort of listless when eating lunch.

“Yeah, no,” Klaus decides. “Seriously, what’s up?”

Five looks up at him with a shade of annoyance. But Klaus has weathered far worse than mere annoyance.

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to keep asking,” he warns cheerfully.

Five’s face falls as he realizes the truth of this. After another few seconds, he huffs and closes the book. He glares at Klaus and crosses his arms almost….defensively?

“If you _must_ know,” Five says testily, “I’ve been coming to terms with realizing my sexuality today. Or my lack of one, as it is.”

It takes Klaus a moment to parse that. Then he gasps loudly and sits up in his chair. “ _Really?_ Fivey, why didn’t you come to me? You know I’m an expert on this stuff!” He leans forward so far he almost falls off the chair. _“Tell me everything.”_

“There’s nothing _to_ tell,” Five shoots back quickly, pulling his arms in tighter against himself and scowling harder at Klaus. “I was reading a book, and I noticed that I didn’t have any reaction to the description of the protagonist’s various love interests. That’s hardly new, but I realized that it’s unusual for my age, and I realized that I’ve never - desired anyone. Even abstractly.” He grimaces. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Wait, really? Never?” Klaus blinks. “No one? Guys, gals, non-binary pals? Trans? Genderfluid? Dwarfs?”

_“Stop talking,”_ Five groans, sagging back against the couch. “And _yes,_ no one. I can only assume my - upbringing stunted me in some way, and the apocalypse compounded it. Which is for the best, it’s not like I’m going to become interested in _you._ ”

“I’m way out of your league anyways,” Klaus agrees. “What about Delores, though?” He’d honestly thought his brother had a little crush on her. It was kind of adorable, once the question of her personhood was decided on.

“I - well,” Five says, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I - like talking to her. But it’s more of a cerebral connection, in her case.”

Oh, thank fuck. Klaus has a fairly high tolerance for weirdness, and he would have supported Five and Delores no matter what, but its a relief to hear Five describing them in those terms. Klaus nods.

“Okay, sure,” Klaus says. “But - seriously, nothing at all?”

“No,” Five says flatly. “I realize that may be difficult for you to understand.”

“No kidding,” Klaus says, tapping the side of his leg. He considers his brother, a little niggling - _something_ scratching at the corner of his mind.

He frowns, and closes his eyes. He tries to reach for whatever is trying to get his attention. It’s fuzzy, which is unsurprising after a lifetime of drug abuse. But he catches on the edge of a - memory?

_He takes the cigarette from the woman in front of him. He can’t remember her name, Shandra or Susan or Sara. Emily, maybe._

_What’s important is the lighter she flicks open, the flame reflected in her eyes. She lights his cigarette, then hers. He takes a deep drag and leans back against the wall._

_She does as well. She looks straight out of the 60’s, wearing cutoff jeans and an oversized Beatles t-shirt, hair weighed down with gel. Her cigarette dangles from her fingers._

_He leans forward and kisses her. It’s slow and languid, and the smoke in their mouths mingles together. She doesn’t fight it, but she doesn’t really respond either, so he breaks it off and tilts his head at her in a silent question._

_She shrugs. “Don’t really go for that.”_

_“For what?” he says. “Guys?”_

_“Nah,” she says, taking another drag. “Sex. At all. Ace, you know.”_

_“What?”_

_“It’s a thing,” she shrugs again, eyes apathetic. “Asexual. Nothing really gets me going. Don’t mean no one’s tried, but it just doesn’t work.” She looks him up and down. “You could see if you break the trend, for that molly in your pocket.”_

_He laughs. “You know what I had to do to get that? Not a chance. I’d go for another smoke, though.”_

_“Alright,” she says, and they go back to their cigarettes._

Klaus blinks. “Asexual,” he says out loud.

“What?” Five says.

“You’re probably asexual,” Klaus says, nodding to himself.

Five rolls his eyes. “That means reproducing without a sexual partner, Klaus.”

“Huh?” Klaus says. He frowns. “No, it’s definitely an - identity thing. You’re not attracted to anyone, that’s asexuality. Ace, for short.”

“I -” Five frowns at him. “What?”

“Yeah,” Klaus waves a hand. “Man, that’s a cool nickname. _Ace._ It literally _means_ cool! How is that fair? Pansexuals don’t get anything like that!” He blinks, and twists to look at Five. “By the way, I’m pan. In case you didn’t know.”

Five gives him what has to be the flattest look in the history of ever. “No. I had _no idea._ ”

Then his expression melts away into one that looks more like….nervousness? Klaus isn’t too sure about that, because when has _Five_ ever been nervous? “But - it’s a thing? Asexuality?” He pronounces it like it’s a foreign word, clumsy and hesitant.

“Sure,” Klaus says. “....I can look for, like, pamphlets and stuff, if you want.”

It takes a couple seconds for Five to nod, very slightly.

“Coolio!” Klaus says brightly. “Glad we cleared that up.” He sighs. “Bonding. This is nice.”

Five snorts, back to his usual teenage aloofness. “I wouldn’t say I’m entirely enthusiastic about discussing sexual proclivities with you. And said proclivities are exact opposites, the only thing we have in common is that neither of us are straight.”

“But _Five,_ ” Klaus gasps in sudden realization. “If _I’m_ not straight, and _you’re_ not straight, then _just who is enforcing proper family values on the world?_ ”

That actually garners a bark of laughter out of Five. Klaus grins in triumph.

They settle back down, Five going back to reading his novel. And Klaus smiles to himself when his brother starts muttering about warp drives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always headcanoned Five as ace, and I wasn't quite sure how to work that in, but I think this does a decent job. Honorable mention to LightningStarborne, who wanted Klaus coming out to Five.
> 
> NOTE: I am also ace. I defintely don't agree with Five's opinion that he's 'stunted' or whatever, but I think that would be a moderately reasonable conclusion for him to come to, considering he has, like, zero education in sexual identities. And Klaus got like a two-sentence explanation when he was high out of his gourd, so he's pretty hazy on the details as well. Once Klaus tracks down those pamphlets, they both get better educated.


	27. The Legend of Lacquer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Numero dos of my little spree! I've been wanting to write more about Lacquer since I introduced her, so when Feather_The_Third_Wheel asked for outsider POV from someone at The Commission I jumped on it. I'm very proud of the result, I hope you all like it.
> 
> You should be all caught up to the end of 'for the ones who think they can' to read this, naturally.

She first hears about them around the Facility, during her training period.

 _Extraordinary,_ people whisper, eyes darting nervously to the side, _Brilliant. Elite. Top-tier, the best of the best. **Legends.**_

Becoming a legend in The Commission is no easy feat. This is an organization of incredible, ruthless people, ones who dictate the course of human history and bend the laws of reality as a matter of course. Being notable is not a simple thing.

As far as she’s concerned, it’s not a good one, either.

So she turns away from the gossip, only taking note of the names - _Raithe, Number Five_ \- and focuses on memorizing the handbook.

She wonders why someone would want to be a legend.

**********

She passes the tests, and receives her new name - Lacquer. Refers to a substance that dries into a hard, glossy coating in order to protect wood or metal. Can be any color, but is most often clear. Sometimes used for art.

She likes it. That’s not the primary function of her new name, so she doesn’t mention it, but she does.

Another thing she receives is a partner. His name is Autumn, and it suits him. His hair is a brilliant shock of orange, like leaves about to fall from a tree. His eyes are a clear blue, the color of the last fading days of summer.

He is friendly, but not too much. She doesn’t forsee any friction between them, but nor does she think they’ll become as close as she hears some agent pairs are.

Raithe and Number Five, of course, are the gold standard for this. She thinks it’s probably unprofessional of them. But also strangely….human, for legends.

**********

Autumn saves her life in Cairo. She thinks that means they’re probably decently close.

“Don’t mention it,” he says breezily. “Just return the favor when the time comes, yeah?”

She says she will.

They get downtime right after, and she mostly stays in her room. She can’t read very often on jobs, despite how many interesting books she can pick up.

Autumn goes out, and returns periodically with gossip.

“I saw Number Five,” he says, eyes alight with awe. “And I think Raithe? It’s hard to tell, he outright vanished when I tried to look closer. But they just pulled off this incredible job in London, you won’t believe it. I wish I could ask them about it myself, but I doubt they’d answer. What I heard is -”

She listens, and nods, and agrees that even if the details aren’t right, it does sound like a very impressive job. Their reputation is only going to grow, after this.

She wonders what it’s like, being a legend. She has no desire to find out for herself, but humans are curious creatures. She hasn’t quite managed to stamp that out of herself, yet.

Raithe and Number Five’s downtime ends three days into her own. Autumn doesn’t let this deter him from talking about them. She simply nods, and reads.

**********

“Did you ever wonder,” Autumn says, abruptly, “how Raithe and Number Five became the way they are?”

She looks at him. Moonlight slants in through the hotel curtains.

“Sometimes,” she admits.

He nods, like he never expected anything else. She may be getting too predictable.

“I always thought it was luck, managing those insane missions they get,” Autumn says, sounding thoughtful. “But I wonder if it just wasn’t them being - very, very good at being partners. More than the sum of their parts, you know?”

She nods slowly. She understands the theory, even if she’s never experienced it herself.

Autumn shakes himself. His hair rustles like fallen leaves. He sends her a smile. “Anyways. Just thinking. Night.”

She lays in the dark and looks up at the ceiling, listening as his breathing evens out into sleep.

She wonders what makes a legend.

**********

There is blood on her hands. Even after she washed them, it’s still there, in the crevices of her cuticles and under her nails. She had to throw out her suit.

She doesn’t think she’s very upset. Not like some other agents would be at the death of their partner. Not like the ones who deeply, truly care about each other, who would save each other at the cost of their pay or a job or even The Commission’s ire.

She wishes she could have saved him, though. Returned the favor.

The note she receives directs her to a motel. She thinks that if there are agents here, she’s going to have to explain Autumn’s death. She can do that, she knows. Although she may not want to more than once.

His eyes were surprisingly dull, in death.

She grips her Briefcase, and knocks on the door. There’s a long silence, long enough that she wonders if anyone is even here.

Then the door opens, and she comes face-to-face with a legend.

**********

Number Five is everything like the rumors say he is, and nothing like them at all. She doesn’t know what to make of him. Or of Raithe, but as long as she assumes everything she’s heard about him is wrong it looks like she’ll predict him alright.

She’s left alone with Number Five, as the rain starts to come down outside. She tries to find out what happened on the London job. Autumn always wanted to know.

His reply causes unexpected pain. She doesn’t know why.

But he is a legend and she is not, so she stays quiet.

**********

She waits with Smith, deep in the parking garage. She answers a few of his questions, though she has to lie or evade in some places. He’s still confused in the end, but that’s not really her problem.

Sitting back, she wonders how she’ll deal with Autumn’s body. Cremation, probably. She can throw the ashes into the sea.

She might say something. She’s not sure what, exactly, but she can at least apologize. If their positions were reversed, he would at least come up with a small eulogy.

Number Five’s barb still stings. She doesn’t know why.

There’s a faint _whoosh_ beside her. She blinks, and retrieves the tube, ignoring Smith’s confusion.

It reads, simply, TERMINATE NUMBER FIVE.

She reads it. Several times.

Then Number Five appears in the room in a flash of blue light, and she hides the paper. She wonders whether she could manage to pull a gun on him right this second, and concludes that she couldn’t. She’ll have to wait for an opening.

He disappears, and she stares at where he was.

She wonders how to kill a legend.

**********

She shoots Number Five, and sees him fall. She’s being very stupid, she knows, when she speaks to him before shooting again. But for some reason, she keeps remembering Autumn’s dull blue eyes, his hair streaked with his own blood. He looked strange, in death. Not like himself at all.

And Number Five’s words still haven’t left her head, so she wants him to know it’s her that killed him. She doesn’t know why. She just wants it.

It’s a mistake, of course. Her biggest mistake, her last mistake, because he is a legend and she is not and there's really only one way this was ever going to end. She got in a good shot, at least, maybe enough to slow him down later, enough for someone else to get lucky, enough to prove that _legend_ doesn’t mean _perfect._

Then he whips out his own gun, lightning-fast, and shoots her. She falls.

It's fatal, she knows. He’s too good for anything else. She feels the blood filling up in her lungs and she can’t breathe and she is going to die.

She’s surprised to find she’s not afraid. She didn’t expect that, honestly, and she would wonder about the reasons behind it but she is running very low on time now. She thinks of Autumn, and whether she’ll get to apologize to him in person.

There’s sound. It takes her a moment to recognize it, to realize that Raithe has come back. He’s speaking to Number Five.

Ah.

She struggles to get her arm underneath her, to prop herself up. She doesn’t bother reaching for her gun. It wouldn’t be any use. She just wants to look at them before she dies.

Raithe notices her, because of course he does, and he moves blindingly fast, fast enough that she can’t track him, and there’s the sound of a gunshot, the last sound she ever hears.

She was never going to be a legend. But she can be a part of one.


	28. Announcement: TVTropes Page!

YOU GUYS YOU GUYS _YOU GUYS **THIS STORY NOW HAS A TVTROPES PAGE.**_

I may now die happy. Go look at it, it's so beautiful.

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/ComesAndGoesInWaves


	29. A Grizzly Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Shy and The_Royal_Gourd for this one! Hope you like it!
> 
> Takes place between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Five says.

Klaus does not actually respond in words, just another high-pitched noise that conveys sheer panic. His hands don’t stop fluttering over Five, checking and rechecking for injuries.

“I’m _fine,_ Klaus,” Five repeats patiently. He stands still and bears the inspection with an enormous amount of grace, he thinks. Really, it’s a good thing he loves Klaus, this would be very annoying if it were anyone else fussing over him.

It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Five’s heart is still racing, and he can’t seem to let go of the bloody tree-branch in his hand.

Eventually, Klaus satisfies himself that Five is uninjured. He promptly engulfs Five in a hug.

Oh.

Well, okay. Five finds that he actually _can_ drop the branch, and he hugs back.

“I’m fine,” he repeats.

Klaus takes a very deep breath. Entirely for show, obviously, but it gets the message across.

“What,” he says, “the _fuck,_ Five.”

“Um,” Five says. He winces.

Klaus leans back a little, not disengaging from the hug but enough to look at Five. His expression is incredulous.

 _“Um?”_ he repeats. “That’s all you have to say? What the _fuck,_ Five!”

Five winces again. “I’m sorry,” he says lamely.

“You could have been killed!” Klaus says, gripping Five’s shoulder tightly. “You - I - that -”

He cuts himself off, and takes another deep breath.

“Please tell me,” he says, eyes closed and voice impressively even, “Why you decided to go and murder a grizzly bear armed with only a sharp stick.”

Five looks over at the cooling corpse of said grizzly bear.

It’s very large. Five hasn’t ever seen one in person before today, and while he did some preliminary research on them in preparation for this particular job, the numbers seemed much less intimidating on paper. Most of the surrounding area is sprayed with blood - the bear has several dozen stab wounds all over it, but apparently it takes time for something so massive to bleed to death because it kept going even after he got it in the throat. Five actually has quite a bit of blood on him, which probably didn’t help with Klaus’ panic.

“To be fair,” Five says, “I did bring the gun. It just jammed.”

He nods to the mess of twisted metal over near a tree. It was useful for blocking exactly one of the bear’s swipes.

“Right,” Klaus says, still with his eyes closed. “Right. And please explain why you didn’t just teleport away when it got mad?”

Five opens his mouth.

Five closes his mouth.

“....Sunk cost fallacy, I suppose,” he says.

Klaus groans, long and loud.

“It was going to stumble on our mark’s camp,” Five defends weakly. “It’d mess up tomorrow’s plan.”

 _“Then you come and tell me to kill it,”_ Klaus says flatly, opening his eyes and glaring at Five. “Because I am a fucking _ghost,_ and I can’t die again, and I will _gladly_ slaughter an entire _continent_ of bears if it will get you to _stay the fuck away from them._ They’re not people! I would have no problem with that!”

“....Okay,” Five admits. “That’s fair. Sorry.”

“Jesus fucking _christ,_ Five,” Klaus says, and hugs him again. He’s shaking, Five notices. He only didn’t before because he was shaking as well.

“I’m sorry,” Five says again, voice small.

“Don’t _do_ that,” Klaus demands.

“I,” Five says, looking between the bear and the stick. “I, um, I don’t actually know that I can promise not to do something like this again. I’m not - I’m -”

“I know that asking you to avoid doing something as monumentally stupid as this is doomed to failure,” Klaus informs him, “Because you are in fact monumentally stupid. But I am going to be extremely unreasonable and demand that you never face a grizzly bear armed only with a sharp stick ever again, and if you _do_ wind up in a similar situation by wild chance you _teleport the fuck away._ ”

“Okay,” Five says, “I can do that.”

 _“Great,”_ Klaus says, and then he falls silent and just clings to Five. Who maybe clings back some. Just a little.

**********

Two days later, Klaus presents Five with a small wooden pendant. It’s carved in the rough shape of a bear’s head.

Five squints at it, and looks at Klaus. “Is this made from the tree branch I used?”

Klaus raises an eyebrow. “Five,” he says, “Would I ever use anything else?”

“I thought you were still mad at me?” Five says, running his thumb over the wood. Klaus only has a few days instruction in wood-carving from a few months ago, but the attempt is better than Five would have expected. He suspects that probably has a lot to do with Klaus’ immunity to knives.

“Oh, I am,” Klaus says cheerfully. “You’re still serving out your no-peanut-butter-and-marshmallow-sandwiches sentence for the full two months. But you did, in fact, kill a grizzly bear with nothing more than a sharp stick, and that kind of badassery deserves commemoration.”

Five huffs, but very quietly. He doesn’t want to add another month to the ban. “Thanks, I guess. Though it was a combination of a sharp stick and some _very_ fast teleporting, you know.”

“Details,” Klaus waves a hand. “Do you like it?”

“Sure,” Five says, quirking the side of his mouth up. “Maybe enough to wait before I give it away, even.”

“Five!” Klaus gasps, putting his hands over his heart.

“It’s terrible craftsmanship, Klaus, even you have to admit,” Five says, inspecting the pendant again.

“What counts is the _thought,_ ” Klaus sniffs, crossing his arms. “But if proof of my regard isn’t _valuable_ to you, then by all means, just throw it away.”

“Will do,” Five grins, slipping the pendant into the pouch where he keeps the eye and a steadily-growing collection of useless (priceless) trinkets, “Will do.”


	30. Five-Fingered Miscount

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another drabble! This one is from bravechicken (again) and TheArchaeologist, who wanted phantom limb syndrome and Five's lack of arm being useful, respectively. I decided to show a few vignettes about Five's life being impacted by his disability, for better or worse. So here it is!
> 
> You'll want to be caught up to ch 14 or so of 'for the ones who think they can' for this one.

He knew, theoretically, that it would take _time_ to adjust to his arm being gone. Obviously. His brain can’t instantly rewire itself to function perfectly without an entire limb. He’ll still have instincts and expectations that can only be overwritten through practice and time.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s managed to magically gain any more patience than what he possessed before the accident.

It’s stupid. It’s so fucking _stupid._ He _knows_ there’s bound to be pain. He had his fucking arm cut off, of course it was going to have aftereffects. It’s normal, and expected, and there are a number of treatments that will probably help Five at least _some._ All he has to do is call out for Klaus, who of course read up on possible treatments obsessively.

But Klaus is currently elsewhere. Five doesn’t know where, and in fact doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is that he isn’t _here._

The infirmary is bland, and boring, and might actually drive Five crazy fairly soon, but at least Klaus isn’t here fussing over him _yet again._ They had another fight a couple hours ago, and Klaus stormed off. Five knows he’s still in the bunker, and will come if Five so much as sniffles, but Five doesn’t actually want his brother frantically mother-henning over him right now, because then he’d probably start working out ways to kill a ghost.

Five crossed a line in their argument, he knows. He can’t actually remember what he said, but it must have been….pretty bad. Klaus tried to play it off when he became visible again, but he was much more shaken than Five has ever seen him.

He tries to ignore the twisting feeling in his gut that produces. He doesn’t….he doesn’t _really_ want to hurt Klaus. Not in the least. But Klaus’ smothering is fucking _suffocating,_ and Five can’t stop the black bile that bubbles up whenever Klaus worries over his meds and tries to get him to sleep even more and checks and rechecks and rechecks and _rechecks_ his bandages. And then there’s the fact that looking at the empty space where his arm should be always produces a feeling not entirely unlike vertigo, like he’s dropping into a freefall. That feeling (it’s not fear, it’s _not_ ) mixes….very badly with the frustration Klaus engenders, and the insults just come spewing out.

The phantom pain is almost a welcome distraction, when he looks at it like that.

Five lies in the infirmary bed, and doesn’t make a sound.

**********

Five hisses, and cups the end of his stump.

“Five?” Klaus says, immediately coming over. “You okay?”

He swallows his reflexive dismissal. _He promised,_ Five reminds himself. _He’s trying, he really is, and he’ll back off if you say so. Just tell the truth._

“Some phantom pain,” Five says, eyeing Klaus.

Klaus swallows, and his hand (hello) opens and closes. “Okay,” Klaus says. “Want help?”

Five regards his brother.

“....Okay,” he says.

Klaus relaxes noticeably, which Five notes. He trusts that Klaus would have backed off if he said no, but clearly Klaus isn’t entirely over the whole ‘Five lost his arm’ thing.

Or, rather, the whole ‘Klaus amputated Five’s arm’ thing, Five reminds himself. As much as he sees the incident as entirely separate, simply a consequence of living in the apocalypse, he has to remember that Klaus sees it differently. His brother had to cut off his arm, and Five can’t forget that it _deeply_ impacted him.

Klaus grabs a few things, and sits down. Five sits across from him. Klaus glances up as he’s lining up small bottles, and gives a small smile.

Five knocks their knees together. “Love you,” he mutters, still unused to the shape of the words in his mouth.

Klaus goes still for a moment, hands freezing over the bottles. An expression flickers over his face, too fast to decipher on its own, but Five has seen it quite a few times by now.

Awe. Wonder. Confusion.

“Love you too, Five,” Klaus says back after a pause, darting his eyes up to Five, like always. It took Five far too long to realize Klaus is looking to check if he was serious.

Five doesn’t know how to say that he is. He supposes, like his arm, it just takes time.

**********

“I don’t need help,” Five says. He briefly misses his other arm, because crossing his arms right now would underscore his declaration nicely, but his lack of arm is the entire root of the issue here.

“Sure you don’t,” Klaus says amiably. “I’m just saying. Maybe we should get you new shoes. Ones without laces.”

Five clenches his jaw so hard he hears a faint _pop._ “I. Don’t. Need. Help.” He grits out.

“Okay,” Klaus says mildly. He throws a sloppy salute. “I’ll wait for you outside, then.”

He leaves, and Five is alone in the bunker, left to glare at his shoes.

Honestly, it’s not like this should be _unexpected._ He’s missing an arm. Ergo, he quite literally can’t do anything that requires two hands. Like tying knots. But the sheer indignity of _being unable to tie his own fucking shoes_ is just….too much.

Five snarls to himself, and shoves his feet into the shoes. He then kneels down and considers the laces carefully.

He’s always been fairly flexible. It’s a very useful skill with his power. So in theory, he should be able to hold this, and move that way, and twist _just so…._

Fifteen minutes later, he walks out of the bunker, radiating smugness.

Klaus does a double-take at his tied shoes.

“Did Delores help you?” he asks, bewildered.

“No,” Five says, with a smirk.

“Then….” Klaus opens and closes his mouth, gesturing at Five’s shoes.

“Please, Klaus,” Five says, striding past him. “I’m a _genius._ ”

(Klaus does get the last laugh, however, when Five gets a nasty cold a few days later. Turns out tying knots with your teeth is fairly unhygenic. Five grumpily bows to the inevitable, and they get him shoes without laces once he’s recovered.)

**********

“Why do people underestimate you?” Klaus says. “You are literally the antichrist.”

“I don’t know,” Five huffs, looking over at the opposite side of the gym. His opponent, a short stocky man Five honestly doesn’t care to remember the name of, moves confidently and cockily, catching Five’s glance and rolling his eyes. The Trainer merely looks bored.

“Well,” Klaus says, shrugging. “Once you put this one in the infirmary, I hear there’s a pair of agents looking for a ‘worthy opponent’, or whatever. The guy may or may not recite Beowulf when he fights. Should prove interesting.”

“Eh, that poem’s overrated,” Five dismisses. He straightens when his opponent strides to the center of the gym. “Alright, showtime.”

“Shall I prepare the infirmary bed now?” Klaus muses as Five walks forward. “Or will my beloved little brother play with his food again? Really, Five, you could at least give him a sporting chance and tie your hand behind your back.”

Five ignores Klaus and meets his opponent in the center of the room. He raises an eyebrow. His opponent smirks.

“Bet you think you’re tough shit,” the man says. “Becoming an agent while missing an arm. But you’re still a baby agent, _Number Five,_ so let’s see you _cry._ ”

Five raises his eyebrow higher. The Trainer’s hand drops.

Thirty seconds later, Five strolls back over to Klaus.

“Aww,” Klaus says, disappointed. “I wanted to mock him. Clearly since making it to agent status without an arm is easy, he shouldn’t have any trouble with an arm broken in twelve different places, and all. Why’d you have to knock him out?”

“He passed out,” Five corrects. “Probably from pain.”

“Baby,” Klaus snorts. They walk out of the room, as the Trainer sighs and calls in Medical.

**********

Five looks at Klaus.

Klaus looks at Five.

Five raises his hand. “I believe,” he says mildly, “That you need two hands to impersonate a whale snot collector.”

 _“Ugh,”_ Klaus groans.

Five grins.


	31. Ghosts of Brothers Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the fifth! This one was requested by, um... *checks* .....everybody, apparently. Well, hope you like it. Ben POV is surprisingly difficult to write.
> 
> Takes place immediately after chapter 14 of 'for the ones who try again'.
> 
> Also: ha, get it, the title refers to both Ben and Klaus.

When Klaus vanishes, Ben doesn’t understand what’s happened.

He was just fiddling with the bulky briefcase that was hidden in the vent, wondering aloud if it had cash (because of course that was his top concern), and then things happened very fast and it’s only afterwards that Ben can parse the series of events with any accuracy.

Because Five opens his eyes and he has a look of _terror_ Ben has seen quite a few times before, but usually it was _him_ causing it (well, the Horror, but same difference). And Five _shouts,_ which he’s never done before, not with this level of emotion, which causes Klaus to open the briefcase, or jostle the briefcase, or do _something_ with the briefcase that makes an explosion of light. And Five jumps over to Klaus, hand outstretched -

But Klaus is gone.

Ben blinks.

“...Klaus?” he says.

There’s no answer. Klaus remains gone.

….Okay. So the assassins have some sort of - teleportation device? That actually makes a lot of sense, considering Five sees them as a valid threat. Ben looks at Five.

Who….isn’t moving.

Ben frowns. He steps closer.

He’d almost think Five was hit with some sort of paralysis, he’s standing so still. His arm is still outstretched, face frozen. He stares, blankly, at where Klaus was.

Ben gets a heavy feeling in his stomach. It’s sort of like how it feels right before he releases the Horror, that mounting dread and the knowledge that something very, very bad is about to happen, that they’re past the point of no return. He’s had it a few times since he died, whenever Klaus got himself into some sort of horrible fucked-up situation and Ben could do nothing but watch.

“Five,” Ben says, a note of urgency slipping into his voice, even though he knows Five can’t hear him. “Five, what just happened?”

Naturally, Five doesn’t answer him. His face remains blank.

Slowly, Five lowers his arm. He blinks, sluggishly, at the place where Klaus just stood.

“....Klaus?” Five says.

He doesn’t say it like how Ben said it. Instead, Five sounds - lost. Young. Like the child he appears to be but hasn’t acted as since he came back, like he never acted as, always hated to be seen as. Like he can’t understand what just happened, like it _couldn’t_ have just happened, like he’s small and scared and everything Five has never been.

The feeling in Ben’s stomach multiplies.

“Five,” Ben says, and he can hear real fear in his voice now, “Five, where - where is he, what happened, what _was_ that -”

But Five can’t hear him. No one can hear him. No one can ever hear him, just Klaus, only ever Klaus, but _Klaus is gone -_

Ben has to break off talking and wrap his arms around his middle, because he’s never unleashed the Horror while he was a ghost but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there, and he thought if years of watching his brother get brutalised didn’t do it nothing would, but seeing Five, unflappable arrogant Five, staring at the spot where Klaus disappeared as if there’s no hope left in the world is apparently _just_ enough to catch the Horror’s attention. Ben feels it shifting inside of him - distant and faint, yes, much moreso than it ever was when he was alive, but it’s more than he’s felt for thirteen years. He sucks in a deep breath, something he hasn’t needed to do for years but suddenly seems desperately important.

Five remains eerily still, blank-faced and silent. He continues staring.

It takes several minutes for Ben to feel like he’s regained control of himself (he’s never in control, of course, not fully, but the balance has shifted back to normal and that will have to suffice). Five doesn’t move a muscle, not once.

Ben swallows.

He steps closer to his brother (and it hits him all over again how Five doesn’t look different. Not at all. It’s hard to remember it’s been decades for him when he doesn’t look any older than he was when he ran out of that breakfast). Five’s eyes are glassy, staring at nothing.

Then he blinks, slowly. He takes a small, almost unnoticeable breath. He must have been breathing before, because living people have to do that, but Ben couldn’t actually tell that he was.

“....Klaus,” Five says, so quietly Ben barely hears it.

And then Ben sees his brother give up.


	32. Handle With Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This drabble is for cylikkious, who made me fanart a while ago and asked for something with the Handler and was then very patient when I said I had just the thing but it would be a few weeks before the relevant chapter was up so it would make sense. So at long last, here it is! Hope the wait was worth it!
> 
> Trigger warnings at the end. Set during chapter 23 of 'for the ones who try again'

“Raithe is gone.”

She hears the words perfectly well. They filter through her ears, reach her brain, and convey the information with admirable thoroughness. She can admit she likes talking, the way she can use words to twist into people and watch them wriggle on a barbed hook. Words are weapons, as she very well knows.

But these words don’t make any sense.

She gives the doctor a long, slow blink, pen held loosely in her fingers.

“....What.”

“Raithe is gone,” the doctor repeats, her expression unchanging. The Handler doesn’t really interact with the Metaphysics Division very much, so she’s not entirely sure of the woman’s name. Something that starts with S?

Unimportant. What matters is the three words that, no matter how many times the Handler runs them through her head, still don’t quite come together.

“Raithe is gone,” the Handler says, trying them out for herself. No, they still don’t work. “Care to elaborate on that, Doctor?”

“Twenty-two minutes ago, the readings went insane for approximately .4 seconds,” the woman says immediately, her voice cooly professional. “Then they all went dead. Not even the passive spectrometer was picking anything up, which hasn't happened since Raithe was captured. The tank appeared empty, and I authorized it to be opened. There was nothing inside.”

The Handler leans back in her chair.

“What happened?” she says, not beating around the bush.

“I can’t say for sure,” the doctor says. “But if I had to guess? Raithe figured out how to kill itself.”

“He’s already dead,” the Handler replied automatically.

The woman shrugged. “Cease existing, then. Honestly, I’m not an expert on its emotional state, but anyone could see it wanted to join its partner. Even the prospect of killing more of us couldn’t really outweigh that desire.”

The Handler closes her eyes and breathes in deeply.

Right. His partner. Number Five. Who she has just come back from visiting, offering proof of his brother’s existence and a deal for his unlife. Which they now can’t hold up.

The trouble with suicidally codependent relationships, the Handler thinks as she rubs the bridge of her nose, is that every now and then, it actually leads to suicide.

“I see,” she says at last. “I - thank you, Doctor, you may go.”

The doctor nods, and leaves the office. Professional. The Handler appreciates that.

Since no one is around to see her, she puts her elbows on her desk and presses the heels of her hands into her eyeballs.

Well, this is a pretty pickle. On the one hand, giving Number Five a brief moment of hope and then snatching it away might just send him over the edge into following his brother, and the apocalypse can continue uninterrupted. On the other hand, it might send him over the edge in another sense, and he now has the equations for genuine time travel. Rough and unpolished, of course, but she has a feeling that if he sets his mind to the destruction of the Commission the outcome will be….worryingly ambiguous.

“Fuck,” she says aloud.

It’s a bit of a problem. But, well, at least she can take her time coming up with a solution before going back to hear Five’s answer. Time travel can be very convenient.

**********

It’s ten days later when the same doctor _sprints_ into her office again, face bloodless and eyes wide.

The Handler straightens, and she doesn’t even have to demand a report before the woman says, rapid-fire and clearly trying not to panic, “I was wrong, Raithe is here, he’s in the building, he _teleported,_ we have to evacuate.”

The Handler processes that for exactly one second.

Then she flips open a case on her desk and hits the button underneath with more force than she can remember summoning for anything to date.

“Get to the Evac Room,” she tells the doctor, who nods tersely and flees. The Handler takes a deep breath, finds it insufficient, and picks up the microphone to address the building anyways. She keeps her voice calm and level, but her mind is racing so fast she can hardly keep up.

Raithe is here. Raithe is loose. Raithe hates every single person in Headquarters, still believes his brother is dead, and has been systematically tortured out of any and all moral constraints he might have once held. If she were in a more reflective frame of mind, she would marvel at just how elegantly they’ve engineered their own destruction.

But she can’t think about that right now. She snaps out orders for the Soulburner tech to be pulled out of storage _right fucking now dammit._ Fucking hell, she _knew_ she should have ordered more of it made. But it was expensive, and highly specialized, and they’d already captured Raithe, so replacing the dozens of gauntlets and goggles Raithe had wrecked took a backseat to more immediate concerns.

Well, it’s biting them in the ass now.

And so is the infrequency of their emergency drills. The Handler grows more and more irritated as she sees the chaos unfold in front of her. Everyone keeps trying to save their work or find their friends or just flat-out forget the evac plans. They all turn to her for guidance, and she grows increasingly dismayed as they end up following her for lack of anything clearer to do.

Really. If they survive this, she’s going to reorganize the entire emergency drill protocol. This is just _ridiculous._

She doesn’t bother looking over her shoulder, like the others do. If Raithe wants them dead, they’ll never see it coming - literally. He’s never been one to play with his food, not like Number Five. She’s always felt a bit of a kinship with Five for that, privately disdaining his brother for being so connected to death and yet never once savoring it. Such wasted potential.

It doesn’t feel like that, now. In fact, the thought of dying without warning, between one heartbeat and the next, is suddenly the most terrifying thing she can imagine.

The Handler shakes herself, and continues hurrying towards the Evac Room.

There’s already people inside, she can tell. Hopefully there’s room for her group. Or just her. She’s not picky.

And then -

screaming.

It’s what catches her attention first, before the blue light or the appearing figures or even the sudden impact that jerks her to the side. Screaming, so much screaming, joy and rage and pain and hate all mixed together like the gates of Hell have just been opened and all the demons let loose on Earth.

And more than that, she knows those screams. Some of them, anyways. She’s the one who _caused_ them.

 _Oh,_ she thinks, the pieces sliding together with startling ease and clarity even as she’s thrown to the floor. _Oh, of course._

It’s with no surprise that she finds herself looking up into the mangled face of one of her past victims. She doesn’t know the man’s name, forgot it long ago. She doesn’t even remember him, not really.

But he remembers her.

She’s going to die, she knows. Perhaps it’ll be quick, he and the others behind him are certainly enraged enough to not hold back. She can hear her coworkers being torn apart, their screams mingling with the ghosts’.

 _Well played,_ she thinks, to a man who can’t hear it and wouldn’t care even if he could. _Well played, Raithe. I never thought it would be you._

And then they are upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: discussion of suicide, people being callous and opportunistic about suicide, death & violence.


	33. Here Comes Santa Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in honor of ObliqueOptimism's holiday fic 'It Came Upon a Midnight Clear'. They outright CONFIRMED they were trying to kill me with cute, so obviously I had to retaliate.
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone! Be safe, dress warm, and have a wonderful time!

“~Here comes Santa Klaus, here comes Santa Klaus, right down Santa Klaus Lane!~” Klaus warbles, causing Five to wince and put his hand over his ear. He’s missed his other arm quite a few times over the years, but this one probably takes the cake. “~Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen and all those other names!~”

“Please stop,” Five groans, knowing it’s futile. Honestly, he knows Klaus is only singing _specifically_ because it annoys Five, but Five has never been capable of hiding his annoyance. At anything.

 _‘Actually, I quite enjoy it,’_ Delores, the traitor, says.

“You’re tone-deaf,” Five tells her. He glares at Klaus as well. “And so are you. And I swear to god, if you don’t stop singing I’m going to ensure I _actually_ go deaf.”

Klaus _smirks,_ but he actually does stop singing. It’s the only thing that saves him.

Five sighs (in exasperation and not fondness, obviously), and regards their living room.

It’s their first Christmas in the new bunker, in the new city. Klaus has always insisted on celebrating every year, but it’s never been this lavish. Five still isn’t sure how he was talked into this.

But. Well. They have an entirely new city full of supplies to plunder. As Klaus put it, if that doesn’t deserve celebration, then what does?

The fake tree in the middle of the room stands tall and proud (Klaus floated the idea of an actual tree, but no way is Five getting pine needles everywhere. They just moved in, for god’s sake). It’s festooned with an eclectic array of ornaments, ribbons, and bits of paper. Around the rest of the room, there are glittery snowflakes and snowmen, glitter-encrusted picture frames holding Santa pictures, streamers with threads of glitter running through them, and about a dozen small, decorative jars filled with what looks to be entirely glitter. They don’t have lids.

With a sinking feeling, Five realizes the pine needles were the least of what he needed to be worried about.

Revenge. It has to be.

He shoots a suspicious glance over at Klaus, who’s still bouncing up and down and humming quietly to himself. He then breaks off and grins at Delores.

“Why, thank you, madame,” he says, taking a bow. “I always did have a flair for interior decorating. See, Five, _someone_ appreciates my style.”

“That style seems to include a lot of glitter,” Five says blandly.

“Well,” Klaus says, tilting his head innocently to the side, voice just as bland. “I wanted to cheer the place up a bit, you know? Since we couldn’t have a _real tree._ ”

Oh, yes. Definitely revenge.

Five groans.

**********

Five pulls the last present out from under the (real) tree. It’s wrapped in bright red Christmas paper with cartoon reindeer, although it’s as much tape as it is actual paper. Five will steadfastly maintain that his own presents are only poorly wrapped because of his missing arm.

Klaus eagerly tears open Delores’ present for her, his own gifts in a small pile next to him. He gasps and holds up a pair of earrings. “Oh my god! Five, when did you get _taste?_ Delores, _look_ at these babies!”

 _‘Oh, Five, they’re beautiful,’_ Delores says, and Five can’t help but puff out his chest. Just a little.

“Thought you might like them,” he says smugly, as Klaus clips them onto her ears. They suit her just as well as he thought they would, and he grins at her. She smiles back.

Five returns his focus to the present in his lap. He picks up the knife he’s been using, and slices through the mess of paper and tape. Peeling it off, he blinks at the sight of the things within the shoebox.

Then his breath catches. His eyes widen.

Slowly, he looks up at Klaus. His brother’s grin grows even wider, taking on a softer edge at the same time.

“By the time I thought of it, we’d already stripped back home of supplies,” Klaus says. “But I searched around here, and what do you know, I found what I needed.”

“How long did it _take?_ ” Five breathes, reaching his hand out to the box. He stops, fingers hovering over the contents, as if they’ll vanish the moment he touches them.

“Way too long,” Klaus says. “Had to grow half of the ingredients myself. And several ovens exploded. And I ruined thirteen batches. And a few other snags. But - Merry Christmas, Five.”

Five opens his mouth. He closes it. Swallows. He looks at the box again, but the contents are still the same.

Bread. Marshmallows. And peanut butter.

Five feels his eyes water, and he doesn’t even try to stop the tears from falling down his face. He lunges at Klaus, wrapping his brother in a hug. The lump in his throat is too large for him to get words past. He can only let out a gargle.

Klaus hears what he says clear enough, anyways. He hugs back, and Five can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “You’re welcome. Love you too.”


	34. Knots and Nos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I wrote this in about 2 hours after a collision of thoughts about the current events with Dave and Klaus musing earlier in the story about how Dave sat them down and talked through their misunderstandings and also a long conversation with some friends about Klaus' sexual preferences and experiences. So blame that mess for this mess.
> 
> Takes place during chapter 15 of 'for the ones who try again'.
> 
> Trigger warnings at end (I am not kidding about this, guys, triggers ahoy).

Not for the first time, Dave can’t believe how lucky he is.

He looks down to check again and, despite all logic, Klaus is still there. He’s asleep in Dave’s arms, his breath puffing out little spots of warmth on Dave’s bare chest. The moonlight slants in through the blinds and falls on his face, lighting on his curls like a halo.

Dave has to remind himself how to breathe. _God,_ this man is so beautiful.

And he likes Dave. He kissed Dave back, when Dave took that first stumbling step back in the bar that made him feel like his stomach was in triple knots. Klaus is so careless and free with himself that half the unit suspects he enjoys men, but Dave wasn’t at all sure that he’d respond to the kiss. Just because Klaus probably liked men didn’t mean he’d like _Dave._

 _He does, though,_ Dave thinks giddily, glancing down at Klaus again. _He does._

As Klaus made _very_ clear. If Dave had had any doubts of his sexuality before tonight, they would have been very, very swiftly eradicated. He’d fooled around with a few guys back home, but they’d been just as fumbling as him. Klaus, it was clear, had _experience._

Dave bites his lip at that thought, a pang of worry marring his contentment. Klaus is - he’s amazing. Bright and vibrant and beautiful and _free_ in a way Dave can only dream of. Plus, he’s obviously been with quite a few people more experienced than Dave.

Dave can’t help but wonder if Klaus sees this as a one-night thing. Because really, why would he want to stick with boring, ordinary Dave? Klaus probably knows tons of people back from wherever he’s from that are much more interesting and amazing and completely unsurprised you can use your tongue like that, just like him.

Right on cue, Klaus shifts a little, blinking sleep away from his eyes. He mumbles something, and blinks fully awake when he notices Dave’s arm wrapped around him.

Dave instantly feels horribly awkward, but he swallows it down. There’s nothing to be awkward about. People cuddle after sex. He does know _that_ much.

Klaus eventually dismisses it, and looks up at Dave. He grins, and his eyes catch the moonlight and take Dave’s breath away. Again.

Dave is very certain that Klaus Hargreeves’ eyes should be declared a national treasure. Dear Father in Heaven, they’re _beautiful._

“I,” Klaus announces happily, “Have wanted to do that for _months._ ”

Something swells in Dave’s chest, and he finds himself grinning back at Klaus. “Me too,” he confesses. “Maybe - maybe we could do it again sometime?”

Klaus’ eyes glint. “How about right now?”

Dave has no objections.

**********

“It’s very simple,” Klaus explains. “Just the same knots we use for the tents.”

Dave nods, inspecting the rope. “Okay, I can see that,” he agrees. “So I just tie you up - uh, wrists apart, or together?”

Klaus blinks, tilting his head. “Uh - apart, I guess?”

Dave nods again, and feels his stomach turn over again. This time, however, it’s from excitement. He’s never - _done_ anything like this before. Sure, he’s _thought_ about it, more times than he’ll ever admit to anyone (especially Klaus, who’s been the starring role in those fantasies more and more lately), but he never thought he’d get to _do_ it.

His fingers do _not_ fumble on the knots, no matter what Klaus’ amused commentary says. Dave’s heart seems to be beating much faster than normal.

“What’s your safeword?” Dave asks, checking to make sure the ropes aren’t too tight. The last thing he wants is to cut off bloodflow to Klaus’ hands.

“- What?” Klaus laughs, craning his neck to look up at Dave.

“Your safeword?” Dave repeats, tugging on the ropes with a frown. It looks fine to him, but he wants to be extra sure. It’s not like he’s ever tied anyone up before.

“Why would I need that?” Klaus says.

Dave stops, and blinks at him.

“In - case you want to stop?” Dave says, and he’s confused enough that it comes out as more of a question than he intended.

Klaus blinks at him right back. “Uh,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the whole point of this is that I _can’t_ stop it,” he gives his wrists a shake, rattling the bedstand.

“I -” Dave says. He blinks at Klaus again, helplessly. “What? No, Klaus, if you want to stop for real we’re stopping. That’s - _important,_ isn’t it?”

Klaus looks deeply confused for a second, before his face relaxes and he snorts. “Okay, fine, my safeword is ‘stop’, then. Happy?”

“...Sure,” Dave says, still feeling a little confused.

But then Klaus arches up, eyes sparkling, and murmurs, “Do I have to say _start_ now?”, and Dave’s brain is otherwise occupied.

**********

Klaus stares at him.

Dave is breathing hard, but he stares right back. Their breaths are the only sound in the hotel room.

Finally, Klaus looks down at himself in bemusement, then back up at Dave, as if surprised to see the space between them.

“You….stopped,” Klaus says, as if testing the words.

Dave blinks.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “You said to.”

Actually, Klaus only said the first half of the word before cutting himself off. Dave’s mind had already recognized the word, though, and he’d pulled himself away before he fully realized Klaus didn’t finish saying it.

“I….yeah,” Klaus says, slowly, eyeing him. “You - why, though?”

Dave runs the words through his mind, then again. They still don’t make very much sense.

“....Because you said to,” he repeats. “You wanted me to stop, so I did. You _did_ want me stop, right?”

Klaus looks uncomfortable. “I - guess? But, I mean - you were having a good time, right?”

Dave stays quiet for a few seconds.

“I think,” he says eventually, “I should untie you now, and we should probably talk.”

Klaus still looks uncomfortable, and very confused. Dave unties him easily - he didn’t make the knots tight. Klaus’ wrists are, thankfully, only slightly red. He rubs them as he sits on the bed, legs swung over the side. Dave pulls over the only chair.

They sit there, regarding each other. Dave notes that Klaus is still beautiful like this, backlit by the light filtering in through the shades. Klaus glances to the side, and his profile is briefly outlined against the window.

“Why do you think I wouldn’t stop if you wanted me to?” Dave says abruptly.

Klaus jumps a little at the address, looking back at Dave. He frowns, half a dozen expressions flitting through his quicksilver eyes.

“Did _you_ want to stop?” Klaus asks.

“If you wanted to, yeah,” Dave says.

Klaus huffs a little and shakes a head. “No, I mean, regardless of that,” he says, waving a hand. Like he’s brushing away his opinion entirely.

“No,” Dave says, suddenly possessed with an unidentifiable emotion. “No, Klaus, not regardless of that. I want to do this with you - _with_ you, not _to_ you. I want you to want this as much as I do. If you _don’t_ want this, I - Klaus, how could you think I’d want that?”

“What - no, no, no!” Klaus waves his hands frantically. “I do want this! I swear, Dave, I really want this, I’ve been thinking about it for _ages,_ trust me, I just said to stop because of a few - memories, nothing serious, I promise. _Believe_ me, I want this.”

“Memories?” Dave asks, his stomach churning. “I don’t - Klaus, what memories?”

“Nothing,” Klaus says.

Dave almost opens his mouth to ask again, but there’s a tension to Klaus’ shoulders that wasn’t there before. He closes his mouth and swallows down the question. He stares at Klaus.

“Okay,” Dave says, a little desperately “Okay, you - you want to do this. And then you had second thoughts in the middle, and you wanted to stop. So - why are you confused that I _did_ stop?”

“Well,” Klaus says, after a very pregnant pause. “It’s never really happened before. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Never happened before,” Dave repeats. He thinks he sounds a little faint, but he can’t quite tell because he seems to be very distant from his body all of a sudden. “Klaus, do you mean you’ve wanted to stop having sex before, and whoever it was didn’t stop?”

“Uh, yeah?” Klaus tilts his head. “I mean, I mostly always said yes beforehand, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Mostly,” Dave repeats. He seems to be having trouble breathing. “You _mostly_ said yes. So there were times when you - didn’t.”

Klaus looks uncomfortable again. He shifts on the bed. “Well, they didn’t ask. I _would_ have said yes, though. Be kind of ridiculous if I didn’t. Like, literally hundreds of people have fucked me, Dave. It’s _not a big deal._ ”

Dave….processes that.

Several minutes pass.

Eventually Klaus coughs slightly and looks away. “Okay!” he says, sounding several shades too chipper to be genuine. He stands and starts gathering his clothes. “It was fun, Dave, really it was. Don’t feel bad about the safeword thing, that’s all on me, and I guess I’ll see you back at the base. Hope you enjoy the last couple days of leave, and I hope we can retain a good working relationship because that’s _kind_ of critical in a war zone -”

“What?” Dave says, standing up in surprise. “What - you’re leaving? Why?”

Klaus comes to a halt and blinks at him. “I - you want me to?”

“I don’t!” The words come out with unexpected force, and Klaus rocks back. Dave quickly backtracks. “Unless - you want to. I _won’t_ force you to stay. But why do you think I want you to leave?”

“Because I, um,” Klaus looks confused, and he gestures between them. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks away. “Most guys - or gals - don’t really - I mean, I’ve been with a _lot_ of people, and I’m not particularly discerning, and most people - I mean, most people like you don’t - that is, you deserve someone who isn’t - like that.”

“....I think I should get some say in what I deserve, Klaus,” Dave says quietly. “And you should get a say in what you deserve, too.”

Klaus looks confused, and terribly uncertain. He looks at Dave like he’s waiting for a punchline, like he’s not sure why anyone would say that with any measure of seriousness.

Dave swallows again. He sits back down on the chair again, and folds his hands in his lap. He nods at the bed.

“If you really want to leave, I won’t stop you,” he says, and he’s quite proud of how his voice doesn’t waver. “But I’d still like to talk, if it’s alright with you.”

Klaus looks at him, still uncertain. He glances between Dave and the door.

Then, slowly, he resettles on the bed.

**********

“Oh goodness me,” Klaus says, fanning himself. “What an _amazing_ coincidence, the two of us both being on watch tonight with absolutely _no one else around,_ what _ever_ shall we do with ourselves -”

“I have a few ideas,” Dave grins, and pulls his boyfriend(!) closer. He nuzzles Klaus’ neck, and takes a probably disproportionate amount of pride in how Klaus arches into the touch.

“Mmm,” Klaus hums, blinking sleepily at Dave, eyes dark and languid. “Well, color me intrigued.”

Dave laughs slightly, and leans in to kiss Klaus. It’s long and slow, and when they part it feels like eternity has passed, yet it turned out to be disappointingly short.

“I love you,” Dave breathes, the familiar giddiness at saying the words. He can’t ever imagine getting tired of it.

Klus swallows, eyes wide as always. Then he leans forward and kisses Dave again, this time with more fire. Dave reciprocates eagerly. His hands start to wander of their own initiative, and they reach down -

\- only for Klaus to hiss and break off their kiss, not quite _flinching_ back but doing something in the neighborhood of it.

Dave leans back instantly. “No?”

Klaus hesitates, sneaking glances at Dave before going back to trying to stare a hole in the jungle floor. “....No,” he says eventually.

“Alright,” Dave says easily, settling back against the tree. He opens his arms. “Cuddles?”

Klaus brightens and scrambles over, and then Dave has an armful of bony, angular boyfriend. Which is exactly where Dave wants him to be, so he allows the warm glow to spread through his chest.

“....I love you too,” Klaus mumbles into Dave’s chest. Like he’s not sure it’ll be accepted.

Dave’s breath catches in his throat. He didn’t expect Klaus to say it back for - well, he didn’t actually _have_ any expectations in that area, to be honest. He knows, now, about how tangled that particular area is for Klaus (not the entire story, but he can see the effects well enough).

He feels a smile spreading across his face, and doesn’t even try to stop it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs back.

He feels Klaus swallow again, and hugs him tighter. He pretends not to notice how Klaus is crying, just a bit.

“...You know,” Klaus says after sniffling for a few moments, “You remember about how Anderson was saying mashed potatoes couldn’t ever be sexy? I know for a fact that is untrue.”

“What?” Dave says. “No way.”

“ _Oh_ yeah, baby,” Klaus says, flashing him a grin. “You need an eyepatch, and some rope, and a willingness to smell like burnt hair for a week, but it’s _so_ worth it. Want to try?”

“Hell yes,” Dave says, his mind whirring, trying to fit all those pieces together.

“Excellent,” Klaus says, eyes bright. “Knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“And I you,” Dave says, without missing a beat.

Klaus presses his lips together in a smile that nearly splits his face apart. “Okay,” he says. “So first we’ll need to infiltrate the food stores….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: someone dismissing the need for a safeword, vaguely-described sexual content, mildly ambiguous consent, refrenced rape/non-con, internalized slut-shaming. Also Klaus' nonexistent self-esteem.
> 
> You know, this drabble could stand on its own. Also it's a bit more than a drabble. Should I post it in its own story?


	35. the god in the garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue why I wrote this, it was like wrangling cats.
> 
> Well, anyways, you know when it's set.

the Children are not allowed in the garden.

not now and not ever. the garden is off-limits to them. this is a rule that She made a very long time ago. that is speaking metaphorically, of course, because Time is not allowed in the garden either.

none of the Children are allowed in the garden.

Death was always prone to breaking the rules, though.

“...Hello there,” Death says.

She stands in front of him, hands on her hips. he is not allowed in the garden, She does not want him here. why can’t he understand that?

(i _really_ hate you, you know,) She informs him.

he looks confused. “What?” he says.

(i told you,) She says. (you’re annoying. go away.)

“Wow, rude,” Death says.

_She_ is not the one who is being rude. he’s the one who just barged into the garden without Her permission. this is Her garden and _none of the Children are allowed._

it is not that difficult to understand.

(you are _very_ annoying,) She tells him, (and you need to stop coming here already.)

“Stop coming….” Death trails off. then his face clears. “Wait, are you talking about Raithe? I mean, the other me?”

oh, yes, that’s right. there are two of them now. wonderful.

(i told you to leave. why won’t you leave already?) She asks.

the other one left when She told him Continuum wasn’t here. but this one doesn’t care as much about him. She isn’t sure why Death cares about Continuum at all, but the Children have always been a mystery to Her.

that’s why they aren’t allowed in the garden.

“Well, maybe I want to stay right here, little Miss Monochrome,” Death says.

irritation spikes through Her. She glares at him.

(you aren’t allowed here,) She says. (you can’t _stay._ )

“Why not?” Death says. he looks genuinely curious now. “I mean, sure, I wouldn’t mind going back, for once, but I think I’m kind of dead? Or, well, I was pretty out of it, but I think I’m _really_ dead. No shock to the heart for me.”

the Children are also not allowed in the garden because they are so annoyingly _stupid._

She sees no reason not to tell him this, so she does.

(you’re annoying and stupid,) She says. (you keep coming here, and i don’t like it. why can’t you just stay out? you keep jumping back in and i’m sick of it.)

“Hey, I didn’t choose to be here!” Death says, offended.

(i don’t believe you,) She says flatly.

“Well, you - wait, if you’re who I think you are, shouldn’t you know that I didn’t choose to be here? You’re supposed to know everything, aren’t you?”

She wrinkles her nose. (that’s what they say. they also say i’m supposed to love everybody.)

“Oh, that’s right,” Death muses. “....Wow, did they _ever_ miss the mark on that one.”

they missed the mark on a lot of things about Her. it’s very annoying.

and speaking of annoying, (you really need to stop coming here,) She says. (i’m serious.)

“I don’t even know how I got here!” Death says, throwing up his hands.

more frustration bubbles up inside of Her. (i don’t care,) She snaps. (i hate it when you come here, it’s awful. you’re messing up my garden. you stomp all around and lay down paths and ruin the quiet, and i hate it. i hate you. you’re selfish and stupid and annoying and inconsiderate and i don’t want to ever see you here again, not on accident or on purpose. figure yourself out some other way, i’ve had enough of it. you need to _leave._ )

Death looks unimpressed. the Children are always like that, really. She hates that too.

She huffs. how can she get him to leave?

oh. that will work.

(just talk to him and go,) She says, all of a sudden.

“What?” Death says, blinking.

She points.

he looks, and isn’t surprised at the building. She scowls at it. buildings do not belong in the garden. and neither do souls. but She can tolerate it for a short time, if that’s what will get rid of him.

very soon, hopefully. that particular soul is terrible. it shouldn’t be in Her garden.

She waits impatiently for them to leave. in theory, she is older than existence and shouldn’t be able to get impatient, but of course since Time is not allowed in the garden She doesn’t really have practice with waiting.

soon enough, though, the building vanishes. the soul is gone. Death is gone.

She is alone in the garden, once again.

finally, She smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not recommend writing anything from God's pov, guys. My brain hurts.


	36. Announcement: Podfic!

Oh gosh you GUYS!!! The wonderful amazing where_thewind_blows has made a podfic of 'this one's for the lonely, the ones that seek and find'! And they are working on podficcing the other stories as well! _Aaaaaaaaa!_

I am just blessed.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428877


	37. Headcanon: Two Roads Diverged In A Monochrome Wood

Alright! So a few people have theorized about why Klaus came back to life, but Raithe came back as a ghost. To set these theories to rest, I am here!

Frankly, I'm not entirely certain what's up with canon, but in this continuity, it has to do with drugs. Klaus' powers naturally resurrect him - more specifically, they reunite his soul with his body, and fix any pesky injuries that could threaten that process while they're at it. This is what happened with Klaus.

BUT Raithe's powers were suppressed because of the drugs he was on when he died. They weren't suppressed completely, of course. But he really overreached himself with that mass exorcism. His powers could only bring his soul back to Earth, and fell short on the very last step of reuniting it with his body. Then, by the time his powers were recovered, the connection between his soul and his body had already faded away. Permanent ghosthood for him!


	38. Announcement: YET MORE Fanart!

The wonderful cherriesareneat has drawn the magnificent snow throne Klaus constructed for Five! Thanks very much!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793727


	39. A Fever You Can't Cling Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble was requested by where_thewind_blows _ages_ ago, for their request after giving me podfics, and I'm very sorry it's taken me so long! I hope it's good enough to make up for the delay!
> 
> Set between ch 13 & 14 of 'for the ones who think they can'.

“I’m fine,” Five insists, scowling. “Dammit, Klaus, I’m _fine._ ”

He then ruins the picture he’s going for by sneezing three times in a row.

“Of course you are,” Klaus says dryly, gently pushing on Five’s chest until his brother overbalances and topples back onto the bed.

Five glares up at him. “Let me up,” he says. “Or I swear to god -”

“You are not getting up,” Klaus says, almost cheerfully. “You are going to stay right here in bed and get some sleep, and big brother Klaus will take care of everything else, just like always. Capiche?”

“You’re not doing this job,” Five insists, struggling weakly. “You are _not._ ”

Klaus sighs, and removes his hand. Five stops squirming in sheer surprise, and then shoots a suspicious glance at Klaus.

“Look,” Klaus says, deciding to go for honesty. Five always did appreciate logic. “Tonight’s the only time we can take out the target without collateral damage, right? Do you really think you’ll be able to kill him when you’re running a fever this high?”

“I can and I _will,_ ” Five says, eyes flashing.

“I’ve taken care of you when you’re sick, Five,” Klaus says, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll be lucky if you can stand without fainting by tonight. Colds _hate_ you.”

Five hisses. “I’m not letting you kill him!”

“I’m not really looking forward to it myself,” Kalus says lightly, ignoring the twisting knots in his stomach, “But it’s not the first time, Five. I’ll be okay.”

“There shouldn’t even have _been_ a first time,” Five snaps. “Or a second, or a third - you shouldn’t be _doing this,_ I _promised_ I wouldn’t let you, but now you keep having to -”

“Stop,” Klaus says firmly, going so far as to put a hand over Five’s mouth. His little brother glares at him, but there’s a telltale shine in his eyes.

Klaus gets it. He really does. He doesn’t like killing people, and each time it gets just a tiny bit easier he feels more and more of his soul crumbling away. But he made his decision to take care of Five a long, long time ago. If taking care of Five requires killing people….well. He just has to deal.

“I know,” Klaus says, gentling his tone. “I know, Five. But you aren’t perfect, and things happen. You’re sick, and I can do this, and it fucking _sucks_ but that’s just the way it is. I’m sorry.”

He removes his hand. Five’s face screws up in pain. He coughs, a little wetly.

“C’mere,” Klaus says, and pulls his brother into a hug. He runs a hand through Five’s hair.

“Sorry,” Five says, choked. Klaus pretends to believe it’s from the cold.

“I forgive you,” Klaus says easily, even though it’s not Five’s fault. His brother is kind of ridiculously stubborn about that, though, so Klaus has learned to work around it.

Five sniffles into his shirt. “....Okay.”

**********

Three hours later, Klaus phases through the wall and takes in the sight of Five, propped up in bed and clearly struggling to stay awake.

Klaus sighs, and runs a hand over his face, silently berating himself. He finished the assassination forty minutes after leaving, but spent the last two hours wandering around the city feeling sorry for himself instead of realizing of _course_ his dumbass little brother would stay up until he came back.

Not for the first time, Klaus bemoans the fact that the fate of the world rests in the hand of a certified moron. A very smart moron, but a moron nonetheless.

“Alright, scooch over,” Klaus says, materializing himself.

Five blinks open bleary eyes and squints, before mumbling something incoherent. He moves over slightly and makes a grabby motion with his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Klaus slides onto the bed, and promptly gets glomped by his little brother. Being a ghost comes with quite a few perks, but the most useless one of all has to be staying at perpetual room temperature no matter what - that is, it’s useless unless Five has a fever and feels like he’s boiling out of his own skin.

With his little brother plastered to him like a limpet (and sadly, Five isn’t so _little_ anymore, meaning Klaus is basically immobilized for the next….day, really), Klaus settles down on the bed and runs a hand through Five’s hair.

Five sniffles, and lets out a string of coughs. He snuggles closer to Klaus, sighing in relief at the cold balm.

“Sorry,” Five says, sounding congested. Klaus will have to get him some tea later. At least there's options now. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Klaus says. “And it’s fine.”

Five sighs, and probably wants to disagree, but at long last he loses the battle against sleep and goes lax.

Klaus squeezes him tight, briefly.

“It really is.”


End file.
